I Want to Tell You: A Beatles Story
by smoshen
Summary: College freshman and photography student Sandra Cohen is a sheltered girl from Brooklyn, until she is selected to take press photos on the set of The Beatles new film in 1965 and catches the intense eye of George Harrison. But when a rock n roll hating producer on the set reveals himself and the body count of rock musicians grows, Sandra must help The Beatles dodge a terrible fate.
1. Chapter 1

The loud "BRINGGGG!" of my alarm clock decided to go off just as soon as I forgot that I had it set sometime in late February, 1965 in a dorm in California State University in Sacramento. Probably the twenty-second or something. However, that doesn't really matter now. What mattered was what I was nearly falling out of bed to do later that day. Well, the real excitement would be tomorrow, but still, today would be pretty big too. It was hard to believe that a sheltered little Jewish girl born and raised in Brooklyn, New York (how I could be sheltered and live in Brooklyn I will never know) was in for something as big as this. I didn't even feel tired as I rocketed out of bed and into the dorm living room where my roommate, Martha was sitting.

"Morning, Sandra," she said as she tied up her long, pretty blonde hair with a black ribbon. "Need help packing?"

"I have most of it done already," said I, Sandra Cohen. "Just gotta get dressed and do something decent with my hair. After that, I'm off to the airport!"

"I have to say I'm jealous," said Martha, rolling her blue eyes. "But excited for you too. I mean, just think about it! You're the only photography student selected from _any _university in California to photograph The Beatles in the making of their new film!"

Yep, you heard right! All of this fuss being put up, all of this excitement, was for me, eighteen-year-old college freshman, Sandra Cohen, to fly to England today, and the Bahamas tomorrow, to shoot photos on site of the filming of The Beatles' second feature film. Of course, I knew when I had been chosen. I had a touch of modesty due to my hate of the common human ego, but I knew I was a very decent photographer for being in my first year of formal training. I'd been working hard for this moment.

"Yeah," I said. "This'll be a big hit for my career, for sure." I grabbed a slice of toast that Martha had hanging out on the dining room table on a plate. "Gotta get dressed now. Hey, Martha, maybe you can help me fix my hair or something, it's a mess already." It was true; my brown hair was a curly, frizzy nightmare all over my head.

"Sure thing," said Martha. I nodded and went back to my room to change out of my pajamas and into something businesslike and professional. I searched through my closet and suitcase for something that would look presentable…nope, that new mini skirt I got outside of the supervision of my Jewish parents that usually had my in a stranglehold would have to wait. Jeans? Too casual. That cute black dress started to look very friendly too, but I settled on a nice, prim, proper pencil skirt, while collared shirt, and blazer, colored grey and oozed professionalism. However, it did absolutely nothing for my appearance with my hair the way it was. I was _insistent_ on making a good impression on the rest of the crew. Yeah, sure The Beatles would be there, but my entire career, if it was starting now, would not revolve around impressing cute boys.

"Okay Martha, I'm ready," I called. Martha came walking into my room, and she must have had some sort of plan, because before I was ready for anything, she slammed my head down onto the ironing board and used the iron to completely straighten my mess of hair.

"Still think it needs more," said Martha, contemplating.

"No, really," I said. "I don't want to look like a go-go girl floosy, I want to look like a professional!"

"Oh Sandra, don't be a square," said Martha. She combed the front of my hair down over the front of my face and took the pair of scissors off of the counter. She snipped away, leaving me with bangs hanging right above my brown eyes. "You see! You want to look your best!"

"I suppose it's better than it was before," I said, admiring my new look. "My mother would murder me if she saw me like this…"

"Well, I think your mother needs to loosen up," said Martha. "You need me to drive you to the airport?"

"Well duh," I said, applying some tasteful eyeliner and mascara. "What do you think I'm gonna do, drive there myself and leave my beloved car in the parking lot for God knows how long? Get a clue, Martha."

"Alright, alright, geez," said Martha. "You gonna wear your glasses?"

"Nah," I said, folding the up and putting them in my little black purse. "I'll just look like any other dorky student. I really want this to work Martha, you have no idea." If I was going to see all of these important high-ups, including The Beatles, I was going to see them in style, even if it meant barely seeing them at all. Without glasses, my vision was pretty fuzzy, but I could still see decently.

"I think I do by now, Sandra," said Martha. "Come on, I'll help you get your bags and we'll be out of here soon enough." Making sure all of my bags were packed and we had all of them, Martha helped me lug them out to her car, one of those clunky, powder blue, Volkswagen Microbuses that were just becoming popular. Martha herself was one of those bohemian children just coming out of the rubble of what had been the early sixties. Her long hair and mostly vacant (but not stupid) expression said it all, most of the time. When the bags were safely in the back seat, Martha and I piled into the front, and she drove off to the airport.

"Now, don't forget about me when you go off to your fortune and fame," said Martha as we neared to the airport. "I love you, my sister."

Ah, well that was the bohemian coming out. "I love you too, Martha," I said. "And trust me, with my parents' training and all, I may as well start to get homesick the second I step onto England soil."

"Don't let that stop ya," said Martha as she pulled into a parking spot. "Well, we're here. I'll help you bring your things in, but after that, I'll leave you to it!"

"Right," I said. Martha and I unloaded her van and dragged them through the parking lot and into the airport. "Man, I can't believe this is actually happening…hey, watch it Martha, you have the bag with my camera!"

"Sorry Sandra," said Martha, who had just lightly bashed the suitcase into the wall after losing balance. "I've got it…now where do we go?"

"Over there," I said, ushering Martha over to the bag checking area.

"Do you set me free after this sister?" asked Martha, putting the bag she was carrying onto the shelf.

"Yeah," I said, doing the same with the other bag. "The other two are carry-ons, ma'am."

"That'll do," said the lady at the desk, loading my bags onto the cart. "Proceed to the next line."

"Guessin' this is goodbye for now," I said, looking at Martha.

"Guessin' so, Sandra," said Martha. "See you when you're famous sister!" She embraced me lightly and planted a kiss on my forehead under my newly cut-by-her bangs. "Don't forget about me now!"

"Unlikely," I called as I walked off. "I'll write, Martha!"

"You better!" Martha called as we parted ways. I soon found myself going through the security line, and into the terminal gate…this was actually happening. It felt so strange to be alone, but so right…through the terminal speakers a song was playing. I listened closely and heard it to be The Beatles' song, "Help!", the title track from the film I was going to photograph. It was a catchy little John Lennon tune. I'm not going to lie, I did enjoy The Beatles very much. I had a chance to see them in concert once last year, and let me tell you, I would have enjoyed it much better if I could actually hear the music over the hysterical screaming teeny-bopper fans. There were many types of Beatles fans; there were of course the screamers, there were the criers (the ones who were just over the screamers in the point of hysterics, either upset that they knew they couldn't get any closer to their dream boys or frustrated that the screamers wouldn't stop screaming), and then the fans that came to hear the music, like me. At the concert I went to, I sat in my seat and attempted to listen. I would have enjoyed it if I could actually hear them. Who knew, I may have a chance to hear them when I got to the set.

Soon, the voice over the loudspeaker began to call the passengers to start boarding the plane. Lucky me, since I was on priority media business, I got into the first group of boarding and, well whaddya know, first class! As I walked down the aisle and behind the curtain to my first class airplane castle, I ignored the dirty looks from old, frazzled businessmen. It was a rather nice looking place, comfy-looking chairs, a larger bathroom, and some rich-looking people. I didn't care to talk to any of them; I just chose a fluffy chair and sat down, looking out the window and waited for the takeoff.

After a moment, another girl, who looked to be my age, came into the first class area. She was a little shorter than my five-foot-five, had dark hair teased up as high as the sky with bangs much like mine, huge brown eyes lined thickly with black, and she was looking right at me.

"Excuse me, miss," she said in a Liverpool accent. "Is anyone sitting next to you?"

"Oh, no, go ahead," I said, gesturing to the empty seat next to me. The girl sat down and I noticed a wedding band on her left ring finger. With her other hand she gently stroked her belly. Was she pregnant and married that young?

"So, what's your name?" she asked, looking up at me.

"Sandra, Sandra Cohen," I said. The girl's eyes got wide, if it was even possible for them to get wider.

"Oh, I was wondering when I was gonna meet you!" said the girl. "You're the photographer for the new Beatles movie, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I am," I said, a little confused. "How do you know all of this? Am I that big yet?"

"Well, no, not just yet…" said the girl apologetically. "It's just that, I'm Maureen Starkey, Ritchie's wife!"

"Ritchie…you mean Ringo?" I asked.

Maureen nodded. "Well, I think 'Ringo's' rather silly," she said. "I call him Ritchie, but still, one and the same."

"Wow," I said. "Well, what are the odds?"

"I'd say fifty-fifty," said Maureen. "So, are you excited to meet them?"

"Yes, I am," I said. "But not as excited as I am to finally start my photography career. This could be big for me!"

"Anyone who works with The Beatles has a big break sooner or later," said Maureen. "That I can tell you."

"I hope you're right," I said.

"So Sandra, where do you come from?" asked Maureen. "Come on now, let's hear your story!"

"Well, Brooklyn, New York, born and raised," I started. "Got into photography when I was quite young, ten or so. I stole my father's camera and went around the house shooting pictures of the cat…I don't think she liked it much."

Maureen giggled and motioned for me to keep on going.

"I was the head photographer for my high school newspaper," I continued. "And well, here I am today. Not much of an epic tale."

"By the end of all of this, I'm sure you'll have quite the epic tale on your plate," said Maureen.

"That's what I'm hoping," I said, looking wistfully out the window. I was really hoping for that…with Mr. and Mrs. Cohen as your parents, adventures were not allowed. I'd never consumed alcohol, smoked a cigarette (or worse, for that matter). I'd had boyfriends, but my dear ol' Jewish parents saw that their hands (and other parts of their body) never went below my shoulders. I had hoped college would help me break loose, but so far nothing had happened to me that made me feel like the legal adult I was. Maybe my parents had the campus bugged…

"Y'know, I've always hated planes," complained Maureen, fidgeting in her seat. "And it doesn't help that little Zak here is on the way…only about a month or so along, but he still makes it painfully obvious."

"Oh, well, congratulations," I said. "How do you know it's a boy so early?"

"Oh, I don't," said Maureen, shrugging. "That's just what Ritchie and I are hoping for!"

"Well, good luck to you both," I said. Maureen did look pretty uncomfortable in her seat, now that I started to pay attention. She also started to look rather pale and sickly. "Hey, Maureen, are you doing okay?"

"Just a little queasy," said Maureen. "Excuse me, Stewardess? Yes, can I please have some ginger ale? Oh, thank you."

"Anything for you, dear?" asked the Stewardess after she handed Maureen her drink.

"Just a coke," I said. I got my drink, and we both sat in silence for a while. I waited until Maureen looked a little better and then asked her, "So…what are they like. You know…The Beatles?"

Maureen smiled. "They're terrific Sandra, all of them, not just Ritchie," she said. "I love them all…except John can be a royal pain in the arse sometimes, but other than that, they're a very enjoyable bunch."

"Good to know," I said. "I'll have to get along with them; I'm going to be around them for quite a while."

"It won't be a problem," said Maureen. "And if they start to get on your nerves, I'll set em straight!" In a way, Maureen was starting to remind me of Martha. Maureen was definitely not a bohemian like Martha, but she was just brimming with personality. I'd probably be getting along with her very well.

"Why, thank you," I said. "Are they all married?"

"Well, Ritchie obviously is," said Maureen with a cutesy look in her eye. "And John is too, but the other two, no. Paul has a girlfriend, but as far as anyone knows, George is the only single one. Why? Looking to nab one up?"

"Oh, no," I said. "Just curious. I'm going to the filming to make a professional image, and I just figure I should know more about the boys as well."

"Trust me, you'll find out plenty about them," said Maureen. "They don't shut up."

I smiled and laughed a little. "Yeah, well, I've seen 'A Hard Day's Night' and all, even though it's not really the _real _them there."

"It's close enough, believe me," said Maureen. She checked her watch. "Oh my, I'm going to have the worst jetlag in the world. Sandra, when you're pregnant, don't fly, it's the worst thing you can do to yourself."

"I'll make a note of that," I said. Maureen, looking kind of sick again, drifted off to sleep in the next few minutes, and I did the same. I had no idea how much longer was in this flight, and I didn't care…because another flight to The Bahamas was right after this. This trip had better be worth something.


	2. Chapter 2

When the plane landed, it may as well have crash-landed. Maybe it was my onset of jetlag, or the fact that the pilot _really _was having a bad time up in the cockpit, but I'm surprised I didn't get sick. Pregnant Maureen, on the other hand, had her face shoved into a bag the whole way down. After the shaky landing, an unfortunate Stewardess took Maureen's sick bag and tossed it. Maureen guzzled down a cup of water and rinsed her mouth out and gave me an apologetic look with her big eyes. "Sorry about that Sandra," she said.

"Don't worry about it," I said we the two of us slowly stood up to get ready to get off the plane. "I'm surprised I didn't lose my lunch with that horrible landing."

"Well, you're not pregnant," said Maureen as we exited with our carry-on bags. "And to think we're gonna be on yet a_nother _plane later on today."

"Ah," I said. "Yeah, I forgot about that." Maureen and I left the plane and walked into the terminal. I had no idea what time it was there in London, and frankly, I really didn't care. All I knew was that I felt incredibly sluggish and my head and stomach were in a great deal of pain. "So, are we meeting everyone here?"

"Yeah," said Maureen. "The boys and their manager. Everyone else is in The Bahamas already, the boys have just been busy with recording the music and everything for the film."

"Sounds good to me," I said, following Maureen down to wherever we had to be. We arrived at the conveyer belt with the checked bags on it, and we took ours up and put them on carts. "Where do you suppose they'll be?"

"Anywhere," said Maureen flatly, pushing her cart. "They'll be kind of discreet; you know how rowdy Beatles fans can be. I get mauled on a regular basis."

"Wow!" I exclaimed, looking around wildly. "Won't anyone recognize you here?"

"Nah, not too worried about it," said Maureen. "Too many people here, and I blend in pretty well. Now, if _Jane Asher_—that's Paul's girl—were here, she'd get beaten to shreds! All of that red hair and all, they'd recognize her in a snap."

"Well…let's be thankful that you blend in better…" I said, now very anxious. I seriously hoped I didn't bite off more than I could chew here.

"Oh, look, there they are!" exclaimed Maureen, dashing over to five male figures in a corner, wearing hats designed to draw attention away from their faces. "Sandra, I'd like you to meet The Beatles, and their manager Brian Epstein. Everyone, this is Sandra Cohen, the photographer from California State University."

"It's very nice to meet you all," I said as each one shook my hand. I was shaking…why was I so nervous?

"Nice to meet you as well, Miss Cohen," said Paul, grinning at me from under the brim of his hat. "Or may I call you 'Sandra'?" His big dopey eyes leered somewhat, but it was more of a flirty gaze than something dangerous.

"Oh, knock it off McCartney," snapped their manager, Brian. "Sorry about that, Miss Cohen."

"Oh, it's fine," I said. "You all can call me 'Sandra' I'm not at all that formal."

"It was such a coincidence," said Maureen, walking over to her husband, Ringo. "Sandra and I were on the same flight, and I just happened to sit next to her!"

"Well, that all worked out then, didn't it?" said Ringo. His puppy-dog blue eyes were more friendly than Paul's eyes had been, but I had expected that from someone who was happily married.

"I'd say it has," said George in his trademark drawly voice, looking at me intensely with dark eyes and grinning a bit. "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Sandra Cohen." He tipped his hat.

"That'll do, Harrison," said Brian before I could get a word in edgewise.

"Hey, hey, Eppy, hey!" piped up John suddenly, causing Brian to jump and grunt unpleasantly. "When're we getting out of here, I'm starving!"

"Lennon, can you, for once know when to shut up!" Brian snapped, but John still looked unphased, his almond shaped eyes fixed on his manager. "I am _trying _to let Miss Cohen—oh, Sandra, sorry—know what she is to do today, so the _least _you can do is let me!" It looked rather comical that someone like Brian was shouting at John. He looked to be only a few years older than the boys in the group, yet he was acting like their father.

"Sorry Eppy," said John. "It's just so hard to concentrate with a pretty girl in the room!" He winked at me, and I swiftly looked away. Was this what I had to deal with during the filming?

"Oh, shut up John," said Maureen. "You're married! And listen to your manager, cause if you don't, I'm going to shove a fist up your mouth!"

"That's my girl!" said Ringo.

"_Thank _you, Maureen," said Brian, exasperated. "So, Sandra—welcome to England, first of all."

"It's nice to meet you all," I said. George winked and tipped his hat again. I smiled back nervously and looked back at Brian. "So…do we get right on the plane?"

"Well, yes, if we want to get to The Bahamas by tomorrow," said Brian. "You girls look pretty sick by the way."

"Rough landing," said Maureen, stroking her belly.

"Mo, what in the world made you want to fly on a plane pregnant?" asked Paul.

"I don't know, but everyone makes bad judgment," said Maureen.

"Do you think you should stay in England for now, love?" Ringo asked, concerned. It was rather sweet how he was worried for his wife.

"No, are you kidding?" said Maureen. "Won't that get boring quickly? No, I'll go with all the rest of you, if that's okay for everyone."

"Please do Maureen," said George. "As of now the female to male ratio is all topsy-turvey."

"What do you mean by that?" asked Paul.

"Oh, I dunno," said George, shrugging. "Just trying to make a point ya know."

Brian rolled his eyes and ignored that little exchange. "So Sandra, you have your camera with you?"

"Yes I do!" I said, swelling with pride.

"Well…don't take any pictures on the plane…" said Brian, shuddering a bit. "Don't ask why; you'll find out soon enough."

"Uh…okay?" I said, pretty confused.

"Don't let him scare ya," said George, passing by me as we started to make our way over to the boys' private plane. "Were not all that bad, you know."

"Oh, don't listen to Georgie," said John, who had popped up right behind me, making me jump about a foot. "We're horrible people, just plan nasty! Say, what's that around your neck?"

I reached up to the silver Star of David I wore around my neck nervously. Maureen was right, John did seem to be a "pain in the arse."

"Hey, hey, Eppy!" exclaimed John, bouncing up and down like a child. "Susan's a Jew, just like you!"

"Yes, I gathered that from the 'Cohen'," said Brian, sounding very bothered, like he was about to slam John in the face. I didn't really know what to think; I sort of just stood there, feeling small and embarrassed.

"Knock it off John," said George. "So what if she's Jewish? She can blackmail us with those pictures she'll be taking if we piss her off."

"But she wouldn't, would she?" asked Paul in mock-worry.

"As of right now, I'm thinking about it," I muttered.

"Oh, stop bugging her, you three," said Ringo. I could tell he meant it; his blue eyes met mine apologetically. "She's here to help us with publicity, the least you can do is stop treating her like a fangirl."

"Thank you, Ringo," I said. Maureen looked at her husband lovingly.

"Boys, stop bugging the photographer and let's get a move on to the plane," said Brian, ushering the guys away from me. I followed everyone to their private terminal where their private plane was waiting to take off to The Bahamas.

"So Sandra," said George, somehow getting passed Brian and sneaking up to me. "Where are you from?"

"Uh…Brooklyn," I said. George seemed friendly enough, but the way he was looking at me made me feel like he could read me like a book and see right through my skin.

"That's nice," he said, nodding. "I'm a fan of New York; nice place to do a show. I guess that explains the Jewish too."

"Very much," I said.

"Yeah, sorry about the others," said George. "Ringo and I are the only two of us who have a shred of sense."

"Maureen did say that John could be a pain," I said.

"Well, isn't she right?" said George as we neared the plane. "But really, once you get to know him it gets better. He stays the same and all, but you just get used to it."

"Okay everyone, time to board," Brian cut in. He ushered all of us onto the smaller private plane. I was hoping that this pilot new how to land better than the one who had flown me out of California. It was a smaller plane, so maybe.

"Hey, John," said Paul as soon as the plane was boarded. The band and their manager had shed their hats and coats and were now looking just like their normal selves. "John, you have…that stuff?"

"Boy, do I!" said John.

"Oh man…" Maureen moaned. "Sandra, I hope you don't have asthma."

"I don't," I said. "Why, are they gonna be smoking cigarettes?"

"Oh, better than that, darling," said John, grinning slyly as he pulled something out of his suit in a plastic bag. Was that…oh my, it was. I'd always had my suspicions, I mean, musicians in the nineteen sixties did do that stuff, there was no doubt about that, but seeing it in person was…well, alien, especially to a girl like me who was raised to be shielded from this sort of thing. "Hey, Paulie, catch!" John tossed the bag of weed to Paul, who was only sitting right next to him.

"You can thank Bob Dylan for this," said George as he took the empty seat next to me. He gave me that smoldering look again and I felt a blush creep up in my cheeks. "You got papers, John?"

"Duh, I do!" said John. "Ya think I'd waste all this?" John and Paul feverishly worked on rolling a joint while the plane took off. Brian had his face in his hands up front as John lit it up and it started to travel around the plane.

"These boys are gonna be the death of me," said Brian to me, turning around.

"Oh, come on Brian, don't be so soft," said George as the joint traveled over to him. He took a long drag and the smoke came out of his mouth in swirls. He held the joint up to me with a questioning glance.

"Ah…no, I don't smoke," I said quickly.

"Suit yourself," said George. He took another puff and passed it back to Ringo.

"Good stuff," said Ringo, sitting back after he took his puff. "Want some, Mo?"

"Ritchie, you know I don't," said Maureen, pushing it away. "And not to mention I'm pregnant. I really shouldn't."

"Ah…right, sorry love," said Ringo, passing the joint back up to John where it started. Of course, through the whole flight, that one little joint passed between the four of them. Before long, they were as giddy and giggle as a bunch of schoolgirls. The haze, of course, was unbelievable. I fanned my hand around to get rid of the cloud of smoke that surrounded a very glazed-eyed George Harrison who was smiling absentmindedly.

"Oh, sorry there love, is all that bothering you?" he asked hazily. He made a motion to try to get rid of some of the smoke, but he failed miserably and ended up nearly crashing on the floor in silly giggles.

"You alright there Georgie-poo?" asked John from his seat with the widest smile I had ever seen on anyone.

"Man, is he ever okay?" asked Paul. "That kid almost just fell on his ass…on his a_ss!" _

"Hey guys, stop cussin' will ya?" asked Ringo, passing the joint back over to John. "My kid's here in the plane!"

"Nah, he's not, ya bloody liar!" said John. "He's in your wife!"

"Who's on the plane," said George, still snickering. "I'm right, aren't I Sandra?"

"Well, yeah," I said. I still really didn't know what to make of this situation…boy would I have something fun to write to Martha about once we landed. "Mr. Epstein," I whispered discreetly to Brian in front of me.

"Yes Sandra?" asked Brian, looking like the father of four three-year-olds.

"Are they…always like this?" I asked.

Brian shrugged. "It comes and goes," he said. "The whole cast and crew is counting on me to keep them in line…good thing Ringo has his wife her, God bless her."

"Hey, Eppy!" John called goofily from his seat. "Are we there yet?" All four boys burst into outrageous laughter at that stupid little comment. I hid a little grin, but George, high as a kite, caught me and yanked me in with his arm around my shoulders.

"Lennon, shut your mouth and for the love of all things sacred, s_top smoking_," moaned Brian. "I'll tell your wife of you!"

"Yeah, she won't care," breathed John. "Oh Cynthia, nothing but a flower on a rainbow…"

"Flower on a rainbow?" asked Maureen. "I really think you need to stop now boys."

"Ain't no stopping us now," said Ringo. "Ay, John, give us one more puff each!"

"Ringo that, Roger!" said John. "Oh wait…HAH!"

"John, you're a bloody stupid wanker," said Paul.

George leaned over to me and gave me that same look, except with very red eyes. "Ya know, we're not always like this," he said with a silly grin. "We're capable of being perfect professionals…except that we chose not to." He laughed a little at his comment and turned back again.

"I swear, the next time I run into Bob Dylan I'm gonna punch him," said Brian. "gave 'em this stuff ya know. Bloody big mistake."

"I'm sure that the boys will sober up while on the set," I said. "At least, one would think."

"One would think, wouldn't they?" said Brian. The flight went on, and the boys did end up smoking through most of it. Oh, the celebrity life…by the time we landed in the airport in The Bahamas, however, they had sobered up, thanks to Brian being smart and force-feeding them coffee.

"Okay boys," said Brian briskly as John, Paul, George, Ringo, Maureen, and I exited the plane. "I expect top performance and behavior from _all _of you, that includes you too Lennon."

"Sir yes _sir!" _John called, giving a phony salute.

"Well you can't really expect the likes of him to be on his best behavior," said George. "But the rest of us will do our best to have a crack at it."

"Okay…" Brian groaned. "Sandra? Yes, we will be on the sight soon, so have your camera ready for it and click away."

"I thought we were going back to the hotel first," said Paul. "Ya know, for unpacking and such."

"Oh, yes, I had forgotten," said Brian. "Come on, follow me, the taxi's going to bring us there." The group of us followed Brian through the small terminal and out to the front lot where a taxi was parked.

"After you, Sandra," said George, opening the taxi door for me.

"Thank you, George," I said as I slid inside the car. Maureen came in next to me, and then everyone else followed suit.

"Ya know," Maureen whispered to me. "I think George has taken a shine to you."

"Well if he has, he's got a funny way of showing it," I said. "All he did was stare at me."

"Yep, that's our George," said Maureen.

"Shy?" I asked.

"No," said Maureen. "Just…well you know what they call him, 'The Quiet Beatle'."

"I see," I said. The taxi drove off to where we'd be staying at the hotel and I was already mentally composing the note I would start to write Martha when we got there. Bumpy landings and high Beatles…sounds like a hit.


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear Martha,_

_ We just landed in The Bahamas and got to the hotel room. I didn't get to see any of the sights yet, but that'll come soon. The flight into London was a complete catastrophe, the landing was horrible! But it was funny though—you'll never guess it—Ringo's wife Maureen was on my flight and sat by me! Nice girl, very sweet. As for The Beatles…well, Ringo's very nice, for one. Paul's a little bit of a flirt, George seems very down to earth, but John…I think Maureen put it right when she said he could be a pain, because that's what he seems to be as of now. The plane ride over here was a riot. I feel so bad for their manager, it's like running around with four toddlers, except these toddlers were smoking grass ALL THE WAY to The Bahamas! I'll spare the details for now, but I'm sure you can use your imagination. I hope you are doing well, and I miss you already! Say hello to everyone for me._

_Love, _

_Sandra. _

I finished writing my first letter home to Martha and sealed it in and envelope. I was wearing my thick-rimmed square-lensed glasses because I had to be able to see what I was writing, but the plan for glasses was out of the question for the rest of the trip…but then how would I take pictures…I'd have to think about that. Either way, I made my way out of the private hotel room I had gotten with my camera hung around my neck to find a mailbox to drop the letter in.

I peeked my head out of the door for a little to see if anybody was around, and then I emerged all the way to walk down the hall. It was nice to have a little solitude for a while after being on two crowded airplanes, one being very small and hazy. I was about halfway out to the lobby when I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. I wheeled around in a panic and saw George standing in front of me, grinning lazily. "Hello, Sandra," he greeted.

"Oh, hey George," I said, still catching my breath. "What are you doing out?"

George shrugged. "Got bored, I guess," he said. "What're you doing?"

"Gonna mail a letter," I said, holding Martha's letter up. "It's for my roommate back home. Well, she's my friend too, my friend who's my roommate…ya know." Why was I losing my train of thought? It must have been that gaze again. With my glasses on now, I could see George's face more clearly. His eyes were piercing and very dark, his face angular with sharp features, and his hair dark brown and rather untidy.

"Calm down Sandra, I don't think that needed that much explaining," said George. "By the way, why've you got those on your face? If you'll pardon me, that is."

"Oh…well…they're my glasses…" I said, embarrassed by the way he put it.

George laughed. "Don't be so bashful, I was only joking," he said. "John has to wear glasses too, else he's blind as a bat, he is. They look good on you, ya know."

"Th—thank you," I stuttered. "Say, do you know where there might be a mailbox?"

"Yeah, I'll show ya, it's down in the lobby," said George. We started walking again and he led me down to the lobby where the mailbox was so I could put the letter to Martha in. It was early, so the lobby, thank God, wasn't crowded. I found the mailbox by the front desk and after making sure everything was labeled right on the envelope, I dropped the letter in.

"Thanks George," I said.

"Not a problem, Sandra," said George. "Say, have you seen Brian anywhere? He was supposed to stop by our rooms and drag us out to the set."

Before I could answer him we both saw Brian speedwalking up to the two of us. "Harrison, where the bloody hell were you?" he asked. "The taxi's out front, the other boys are there already!"

"Oh, well sorry about that Brian," said George. "I was just helping Sandra here find the mailbox to send a letter. She needs to come with us too, right?"

"Yes," said Brian. "Let's go, you two. Ah, good Sandra, you have your camera!"

"Always," I said, patting the camera that hung from a strap around my neck. Brian led George and me to the taxi where John, Paul, and Ringo were already sitting. "Hey everyone," I greeted as I slid into a seat. "Where's Maureen?"

"She wasn't feeling too well after that flight, so she's staying behind in the hotel," said Ringo. "I really didn't think she should be flying in the first place, but stubborn her, she didn't listen."

"Well, it seems that she obviously wanted to see you," I said as the taxi took off.

Ringo shrugged. "Yeah, I guess you're right Sandra," he said. "Just can't stand to see her sick like that. Though, you didn't look much better when you landed in London!"

"Oh, gee, thanks," I said, bracing myself for whatever one of the boys would say next.

"Oh, nonsense, she's a lovely girl," said Paul, giving me a wink.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," I said. "But I do believe you have a girlfriend, right?"

"Well, that doesn't mean I can't give you a complement, does it?" asked Paul, keeping himself from falling off the cliff he was on the edge of.

"Come on Paulie, she won't let you win ya know," said John. "She's a woman, isn't that right, Susan?"

"My name is Sandra," I growled. "And I'm starting to find you quite rude and annoying John."

"Oh, well that's not very nice to say, is it Sandra?" said John.

"Come on John, knock it off, will ya?" said George, grabbing hold of my shoulder. It didn't quite register to me at first that George Harrison was touching me, but when it did, my insides flipped out a little bit. "She's gonna be doing an important job for us for the next few months, a little respect wouldn't hurt!"

"Geez George, I was only trying to be funny…" said John.

"Well, it had better be out of your system already, Lennon," said Brian from the front seat. "In just a few moments, your demeanor will have to turn to professional actor, and I expect a little maturity!"

"Isn't that a little too much to ask?" asked Paul.

"It shouldn't be," scoffed Ringo. "I for one am getting a little tired of John's constant jabbering."

"Look, it's Ringo Starr, the teacher's pet!" said John.

"Oh, will you _shut up _John and let me enjoy this shot of a good thing that has happened to me?" I suddenly blurted out. Everyone in the taxi froze, and I once again caught George giving me an appraising look. "Just—learn to be a little more mature, for me, will ya?"

"She has a point, you know," said George.

"Thanks Sandra," Ringo muttered with a bitter smile. I nodded, still all kinds of stressed, and just looked straight forward. John looked up at me a couple of times, looking like he wanted to say something, but quickly went back down again each time. I may have really scared him, but maybe now he'd chill out a little.

"Okay boys, and Sandra, we're here," said Brian as the driver pulled up to a parking lot on the beach. "Get out, and go to makeup and costuming. Sandra, I do believe this is where your job starts. Shoot away."

"What, does the camera have bullets in it?" asked John as we all climbed out of the taxi, grabbing at my camera and looking into the lens. I yanked the camera away and gave John an evil look. He bit his lip and backed away. I grinned and followed the boys to the makeup and wardrobe booth to start my job. I snapped pictured of the boys as they were being all set to appear on set. Most of the photos were candid shots, unposed and everything, but every once in a while one of them would turn to the camera with a goofy grin that I just couldn't pass up in a shot. Despite me being so stressed out with John, I had to admit it was quite fun work. Photography always cheered me up—I was in charge here!

"Man Sandra, I think I'm gonna be seeing little red dots for days now," said Paul, blinking his eyes to get rid of the flash.

"Although we should be used to it by now," said Ringo. "Any bad shots?"

"Well, there's a couple where you all blinked," I said, trying to remember. "But that's all normal, I guess. Aren't you supposed to be on the set already?"

"Yeah, come on guys, let's get going," said Paul, leading the others out.

"Can't wait to see the shots, Sandra," said George as he passed me. I smiled and followed the four outside.

"Man, it's bloody cold!" John exclaimed as he hit outside in his "warm weather" costume. "Whose idea was it to visit The Bahamas in the middle of February?"

"As I recall, you four wanted to come here to shoot," said Brian. "So don't complain, this is what we had to do." Before the shooting started, some of the costars and crew came out to the set as well. The boys seemed to know one of the actors, Victor Spinetti, quite well, as he was in their other film, and the director, Richard Lester. There was another woman, an actress who looked to be in her late twenties, who stood by shyly as she was introduced to the boys. She had tan skin, dark, prominent eyebrows, brown eyes, and a head of thick, dark brown hair. She looked rather uncomfortable, but nevertheless she stood her ground and shook hands.

"Everyone, this is Eleanor Bron," Richard, the director announced. "Boys, she's your leading lady!"

"That's nice," said John. "Which one of us is she leading then?"

"Enough, Lennon," said Brian.

"Nice to meet you, Eleanor," said George, eyeing up the shy and blushing actress almost identical to how he did me. It was strange…she was so much older than him, or at least it looked. Maybe that was how George looked at all of the girls. I didn't know why I felt so disappointed though.

"Same here," said Eleanor quietly. "I'm sure this will be great fun."

"Oh, good, he's here," said Richard. Everyone turned to see a rather grouchy-looking man in his forties stomp on over to the set. His hair was thinning and turning grey and his eyes were grey and very stern. "I'd like to all to meet our co-producer, Mr. Alexander Jameson."

"A pleasure," said Alexander, eyeing the boys like they were some sort of vermin that chewed through his bedroom wall. "Don't you all have to be acting now? Go on, get on set."

"You'd think he'd be more pleasant," muttered Eleanor as she and the boys took their places. I had to admit that I thought she was right. However, the sour mood set forth by Mr. Jameson was relieved somewhat by the filming of the beach scenes. The boys were right, it was rather cold out, but I felt bad for them because I was bundled up nicely and they had to dress as "beachy" as possible, meaning trunks, short-sleeved shirts, sandals, the works. Once I saw the scene starting up, I hid behind my lens and snapped more pictures, action shots of the boys and their costars. It was an exhilarating experience, really. I was glad I had a fast-action camera, because no one really stayed in the same place for long. In a way I wished that I was able to see the boys out from behind the tiny little space of the camera, but this was what I was brought up here to do, and I was pretty damn proud of it. As the number of takes of the scene piled on and wrapped up after what seemed like hours, but I wasn't really sure, I took my last shots as everyone walked off set.

"That was brilliant boys, brilliant," said Richard.

"It's too obnoxious," Alexander butted in. "Just like rock and roll stars, always full of themselves, you think you can do everything, don't you?"

"Well now, who put a bug up _your _shorts?" asked Paul. "We know we're not actors, we're doing our best over here!"

"Yeah sir," said Ringo. "I do believe you were the one who signed up to do this with us anyway, so chill out, will ya?"

"Children," Alexander muttered as he walked off. "Immature children…I'll show them."

"You were working like a crazy person over there Sandra," said George walking over to me, ignoring Alexander's rudeness. "Is your hand sore yet?"

I laughed at the silly question. "No, it's not," I said. "I'm quite used to it."

"Well, that's good then," said George. I felt a sudden urge to ask him about Eleanor. I had no idea why, it just kind of popped into my head. My first instinct was probably because I was enjoying being the sole object of attention from a Beatle and was actually being territorial…but that just sounded stupid, didn't it? "So, what do you think so far?"

"I think it's great," I said, trying to wipe my mind away from the actress. "I really can't wait to see it when it's all put together."

"Ah, but what compares to seeing the magic in the process!" said John as he suddenly approached us. "By the way Sandra, I'm sorry about being a bit of an asshole earlier. Forgive me?"

"For now I do," I said. "I see you've finally got my name right."

"What can I say, I'm bad with names!" said John. He turned and we both saw that George was giving him a rather dirty look. "Oh…were you two talking?"

"Yeah, we were, but it's alright," said George with a hint of sarcasm. "I think Brian may want to talk to you." John nodded and walked off. "Is he still bothering you?"

I shook my head. "Not as much, I think I'll get used to him soon enough," I said.

"Well, that's good," said George. "Well, we're done for now…say, do you wanna go over to the set café and grab a bite or something?"

"Oh—uh—yeah, sure," I said, rather taken aback. I was expecting George to go back with his bandmates or his costars, most likely Eleanor, and do something with them; not me, the lowly, green, photographer. "I'd like to."

"Alright, why don't you come along then," said George. "The line starts getting long right about now, I think it's time to start avoiding traffic. Or at least I think it does, I've never been there before."

"You say some funny things, you know," I said as I followed him over to the café.

"I try," said George. "I can get you started on that, if you'd like." He gave me a smile and I couldn't help but smile back. "Ah, here we are, right over here." George led me through the doors of a small, on-location café. Like he said, it was pretty packed, but not too bad.

"Nice place," I said, looking around anxiously.

"Yeah," said George. "Got a sort of an old-world charm to it, I'll say."

Of course, as usual, I had no idea what in the world George meant by what he said, but I was glad I was with him here. Not annoying like John, but not too bland. I soon forgot about my thoughts about Eleanor and started to enjoy my trip, for one of the first times.


	4. Chapter 4

I rose groggily the next morning and sloppily got out of bed, nearly faceplanting on the carpet floor. Thankfully I didn't, and I made my way over to the bathroom to shower. It was day two of filming for the movie in The Bahamas, and also time for me to follow the cast (mainly meaning The Beatles) to the set and shoot some more pictures. It all seemed a little monotonous so far, but something was bound to happen. I could feel it. I showered quickly, and it was then that I noticed I didn't have Martha around to force flat-iron my wild curls today…I'd have to live with them, tie them back maybe. Once I was out of the shower and dressed (sharply, in another blazer and pencil skirt), I put my hair in a quick ponytail, made sure my bangs were neat, and slid my glasses on after a quick dose of makeup. I made my way to walk downstairs to get a little bit of breakfast in the dining room. By the time I got there, I was Brian, Richard, and Alexander in a circle at a table, all three not looking very pleased. Grabbing a muffin from the buffet table, I took it to a nearby table and listened in curiously.

"I'm telling you Mr. Epstein, these boys of yours are impossible!" Alexander snapped. "Never in my life have I met four boys such as them; they're rude, disrespectful, and just plain untalented!"

"Now listen here Mr. Jameson," Brian retorted. "I'll have you know that my _boys _as you so prettily call them are highly talented, and although they are a handful, they are respectful—they just don't like you."

"I still don't think that they should be making a movie," said Alexander. "Musicians should only play music—leave the acting to the actors. Not that these boys are much musicians anyway."

"I must agree with Brian, Alexander," said Richard. "I have worked with these boys last year and I'll tell you that they are very hardworking and talented. Yes, they're rowdy, loud, and silly, but they're _boys_, sir. What where you expecting?"

"I was e_xpecting _four well-to-do actors who knew what they were doing," said Alexander. "What I got were a bunch of bumbling primates!"

"You watch what you say about those boys!" snapped Brian, shooting over the table. I thought he was about to give Alexander a punch in the face, but he just eyed him intensely.

"Brian, relax," said Richard, easing Brian back into his seat. "Alexander, while you may have your own opinion of the boys, it is not professional to speak your hate so strongly. You're a grown man, start acting like one, and for the love of God, try being a little nicer to them—they may act better to you if you do."

Alexander and Brian were still eyeing each other dangerously, but Alexander spoke up. "Alright," he said, not taking his eyes off Brian. "But mark my words, if that doesn't work, then I believe more drastic measures will have to be made."

"What's that supposed to mean, you great ugly brute?" asked Brian.

"Mind your own business," hissed Alexander. He got up from the table and stormed off dramatically. I tried to act nonchalant to the fiery argument I had heard while eating my muffin in little nervous bites. Staying hidden didn't last for long, however.

"Oh, Sandra, I didn't see you over there," called Brian, who was trying to calm down a little. "Why don't you come over here?"

I slowly got up, hoping I didn't do anything to set him off again. I didn't know what it could be, but I didn't want to find out; he was scary when he was angry I had learned. I sat myself down next to Brian and across from Richard. "Good morning," I said feebly.

"Sorry if you had to hear all of that," said Richard. "Alexander hasn't taken kindly to The Beatles yet."

"I could tell," I said. "And it's okay, I'm sure I would have heard it sooner or later."

"Sadly that may have been," said Richard. "But he's gone now…what do _you _think about all of this?"

"I like it," I said. "The boys are just fine to me, although John…"

"Yes, we all know that Lennon can get on everybody's nerves, but he's not the worst thing in the world," said Brian. "I'm just glad _you're _enjoying yourself here."

"Now, now Brian," said Richard. "You won't have to deal with Alexander for much longer. Once filming's done, he's out of your life."

"Yeah, I've been telling myself that," said Brian. "Well, I best round the boys up for the filming…Sandra, go with Richard to the set and wait for everything."

"Yes, sir," I said.

"I like you Sandra," said Brian. "You don't say that sarcastically like they do…"

I laughed and followed Richard out of the dining room, to the lobby, and out the door to where the taxi was waiting. Brian had gone off to get the boys and get to the set in a separate car. "I tell you, those kids are something else," said Richard as the taxi started to drive off. "You're a lucky young lady doing all of this you know."

"I've been counting all my blessings," I said snidely. "It's all a bit surreal though; I'm still trying to get it into my head that they're The Beatles, you know?"

"Let me tell you Sandra, I'm still doing the very same thing," said Richard. The taxi continued down the road, and we were met at the set again by the other taxi containing Brian and The Beatles. The set this time was an old warehouse placed in the middle of nowhere. Various other actors in the main and supporting cast were scattered about the set as well as the crew. I had read the script beforehand out of curiosity and saw that this scene would include a chase scene with George; I was interesting to see how it would play out. Somehow, the mysterious George Harrison intrigued me in that way. As I climbed out of the taxi with Richard, the boys, who were also accompanied by Maureen again today, looked rather miffed with Brian.

"Oh, come on boys, you can't be smoking that stuff before filming!" said Brian.

"You're not my real dad!" John snapped back. Maureen rolled her eyes and came over to me in a huff.

"Brian caught them starting to light up a joint in their hotel room before they drove over," she explained. "And now they're—well, mostly John—are pissed off at him."

"Well, they really shouldn't be doing that," I said. Of course my innocence was shining through, but I didn't care. It wasn't professional to get high before doing stuff like this—wasn't it?

"You'd think they'd think that," said Maureen. The other group approached Richard, Maureen, and me, and Brian still looked pretty upset. The boys just looked mildly put-off like children caught in the act of stealing cookies from the jar up on the shelf.

"Morning Sandra," said George with his trademark drawl.

"Morning George," I answered.

"What, none for us then?" asked Paul. I just smiled and checked my camera. I wasn't going to get into anything silly this time. "Fine, suit yourself." He smiled too though; that was a good sign.

"Alright boys," said Richard. "Take your places!" As the boys scattered around to their respective places around the warehouse, I saw Alexander standing by, looking as angry and displeased as he did back in the hotel. For some reason I was forced to keep an eye on him, but I was reminded I had a job to do and went to my camera at once. The scene filming started, and I found myself yet again in a never-ending series of clicking and flashes.

It seemed to be going well, until I heard a loud yell of "Stop, stop it, everybody!" from Alexander. I promptly put my camera down, not wanting to shoot such an unpleasant moment, and to see what exactly Alexander was so mad about to be that upset to make them stop.

"What seems to be the problem, sir?" asked Ringo.

"Everything seems to be the problem with your four!" yelled Alexander while the rest of the cast and crew looked on. "You're crap, you hear me boys? I don't know what anyone was thinking hiring you to act in a movie!"

"Did anyone really ask your opinion though?" asked John, seething. "Look sir, I don't know where you get your notions from, but this movie ain't exactly 'Casablanca'!"

"I can see that, but it should be!" said Alexander. He turned to me and I held my breath, thinking the worst. "You there, Cohen, what do you think of this rubbish?"

"Uh…" I started out, my heart pounding, trying to think of what I could possibly say. "Well…I—I think it's not all that bad…I mean, they're doing their best for—for not actually being professional actors…and uh—well—I also think that their...er…style is a pretty good match for the style of the film…it's…uh…wacky…" I stopped and turned to Richard. "Did I get it? Wacky?" I whispered.

"Yes Sandra," Richard whispered back. I looked back at Alexander smiling nervously to await his response.

"Oh—well—what does the opinion of a bespectacled, frizzy-haired, teenager matter?" sputtered Alexander, obviously upset that I didn't agree with him.

I was just about to retort when George said, "I don't think Sandra's just some 'bespectacled, frizzy-haired teenager' ya know. She's part of the film crew and essentially your coworker. And I do believe you asked her opinion, so, if I'm making any sense at all, it should matter, right?"

"But who asked you?" Alexander yelled again. He looked truly thrown off at my answer and George's comeback.

"Thanks," I bashfully muttered to George.

"Don't mention it," said George. "And your opinions matter, just not to stuck-up, stiff, old squares like Mr. Jameson."

"Oh, that's enough," snapped Alexander. "All of you, get back into position we're shooting the scene over again, that's it, and it better be damn good this time!"

"You can count on us sir!" said John, doing a mock salute. "Just don't stop us when we're getting into it this time, we need our concentration!" Alexander gave him a very dirty look and John scattered to his place. The scene started shooting again, as well as me with my camera. I caught glimpses of Alexander glaring at me through my lens, but I ignored him. He was just a mean old man, and there was really nothing I could do about it.

They got passed that part of the scene quite easily once Alexander started being less nitpicky. Now we were on the part of the scene that I was looking forward to—George's chase. I had revved up my camera for this one. It was surprisingly done all in one take, with George darting through the set away from the bad guys and everything. I got several action shots of him; it photographed pretty well, with his hair flying every-which-way and all. He actually looked quite dashing.

After hours and hours, the shooting had ended for that day. George looked rather winded from his wild chase as the four boys gathered around.

"That sure was exhilarating!" exclaimed Maureen. "I still can't believe Alexander got that mad."

"Well, I can," I said. "I saw him going off at Brian and Richard back at the hotel about the guys."

"Really?" asked Maureen as the boys and Brian approached us. "How bad was it?"

"Pretty bad," I said. "I thought Brian was ready to rip Alexander's face off at one point."

"Now, we don't need to talk about that here," said Brian, who had overheard me.

"Oh, sorry," I said.

"Don't worry," said Brian.

"Thanks for that earlier by the way, George," I said.

"No problem," said George. "I was much obliged by your answer to him; I had to come back with something just as nice, I suppose."

"That man's got a mean streak, he has," said Ringo. "Dunno who pissed in his cereal, but I am enjoying this…the ring's growing on me actually, I may keep it after filming if they let me." He admired the huge, red ring on his finger that was actually the sacrificial ring his character in the movie had to wear due to a mix-up with an Indian religious cult.

"Say Sandra, we were all kind of thinking it," said Paul, "But I guess I'll be the one to say it—how would you like to join us all for a bite for dinner just now, the four of us?"

"And me!" said Maureen.

"Oh, of course Mo, how could we forget you, the wife of our celebrated drummer?" asked John. Maureen rolled her eyes and walked over to Ringo.

"Are you _sure _you guys will be okay without me?" asked Brian, looking pained. "People may recognize you, you know."

"Oh, don't sweat it Brian, we'll be fine," said George. "However, Sandra still hasn't given us her answer. So? What do you say?"

"Sounds good to me," I said, ecstatic. Dinner with The Beatles? That sounded rather interesting to say the least.

"Yay! Sandy's coming with us!" yelled John, jumping up and down in mock-joy.

"Behave yourself, Lennon," said Brian. "Alright, I'm headed back to the hotel. Whatever you all choose to do, please choose wisely…no stupid choices, and that means a_ll _of you."

"Oh, we'll take good care of her Brian," said Paul with a playful inflection.

"I'll keep them in line," said Maureen.

"God bless you, Maureen," said Brian. He gave us one last pained expression and walked off to a taxi.

"Don't worry Sandy, we'll be good to ya," said John, swinging an arm around my shoulders.

"Please don't call me that," I said, trying my best to be polite while peeling John's arm off of me. "My name is Sandra, I think I've made that perfectly clear before."

"Come on then Sandra," said John as we all started walking off. "No need to be all businesslike and all around us; we're The Beatles for Christ's sake, loosen up!"

"I don't think it's her fault," said Paul. "Look at how she's dressed, she looks like an old businesswoman!"

"Excuse me Mr. McCartney, but I have a professional image to hold up here!" I said. "I don't care how old I am or act, this is my career!"

"Yeah, leave her alone boys," said Maureen. "You invited her to dinner, you can all at least be nice."

"I've been nice," said Ringo. "I don't think I've said a bad thing to her since she got here!"

"That's because you have some tact, Ritchie," said Maureen.

"I also think that Sandra pulls of the business look quite nicely," said George, giving me a chilling once-over which I tried so desperately to hide the effects of. "It's rather attractive, I'd have to say."

"Thank you, George," I said, embarrassed. We all got to one of the taxis and piled in. "So…where are we going?"

"Anywhere small and out of the way," said Paul. "If we get a place with crazy fans in it, we're as good as dead. Say, driver sir, can you take us to a place like that?"

"Right away sir," said the driver.

"No need to call me 'sir'," said Paul. "Not like I'm a knight or anything." The driver took off, and I was headed to some random restaurant to eat with The Beatles and one of their wives…this could certainly turn out to be an interesting evening.


	5. Chapter 5

"Ah, now this is the spot!" John exclaimed excitedly as the taxi dropped us off at a small, out-of-the-way restaurant down the road.

"Looks nice," I said, looking around the place. It was nothing spectacular; it was ocean themed, possibly trying to rope in the tourists that cane to The Bahamas on normal trips and not filming movies. There were nets, fish, anchors, you name it all over the walls, and the place had a sort of salty smell to it.

"I could probably live here," said Ringo as we all sat down. "I love the sea you know, it's calming."

"Don't you get seasick Ringo?" asked George.

"Don't remind me," groaned Ringo.

"Let's stop talking about getting sick and order something," said Paul. "I'm starving!"

"_You're _starving Paul?" said Maureen. "I'm sorry, but I don't ever recall hearing you say that _you_ have to eat for two now. If so, congratulations."

"Yeah Paulie, you should tell Jane!" said John. "There's a payphone over by the washroom!"

"Oh, shut up you guys," said Paul, cracking a smile. I had to admit it was very cool to see them so normal and down to earth like this. Well—at least as normal and down to earth as they were able to get. Soon the waiter came over to take our orders.

"May I take your—oh my, this is—this is an honor!" said the young waiter upon recognizing his customers.

"Why thank you sir," said George. "I think I much like this place myself." Oh George, I thought. You've done it again with your silly little comments. Good job.

"H—hey, no problem man," said the waiter, scrambling to get to his notepad. "M—my name is Jake, my I take your orders?"

With every one of the boys' orders, the young waiter, Jake, scribbled it down and nearly dropped his pen. He was obviously nervous about having to serve The Beatles in his humble little Bahamas restaurant. At one point he got so bold as to ask for George's autograph (apparently Jake played guitar too and idolized George for it). George laughed and took the young man's notepad and signed his name. When he handed it back, Jake looked as if he could pass out.

"I'll be right back with your food everybody!" he called as he excitedly rushed back to the kitchens to give the order to the cook.

"That was certainly nice," said George. "I don't think I've signed an autograph for anyone other than our crazy chick fans before."

"Yeah, our male fans are easier to deal with," said Paul. "Well, unless you're in France, and you're one Ringo Starr and you get all kinds of catcalls from the, if you'll excuse the expression, _flamboyant_ French boys."

"Hey Paul, shut up about that, you know you liked their attention too!" said Ringo.

"Whatever you say Mr. Starkey," said Paul. Maureen hid a laugh in her hand, but Ringo caught her and rolled his eyes. Jake the waiter came running back with our platter of orders.

"Here you are guys," he said, breathless. "I'm sorry if it took too long, it's all fresh."

"No, it didn't take too long at all," said John. "So, you said you played guitar earlier?"

"Yeah," said Jake. "I'm in a local band, we play rock and roll stuff. I just never thought I'd be meeting my idols here!"

"Well, we're glad to hear we're your idols, son," said John.

"Thanks for not being an insane teenage girl," said George. "It suits you, ya know."

"Uh…thanks?" asked Jake, confused.

"Just take the complement," I said. "I can't understand half of what he says anyway."

"Right," said Jake, laughing. He was giving me a nervous look, much different than the ones he had been giving The Beatles. "Say, what's your name?"

"Sandra," I said. Oh boy…

"N—nice to meet you too, Sandra," said Jake before he had to shoot to another table to take another customer's order. All eyes turned to me now.

"Now, is it just me, or does that waiter seem to have the hots for Sandra now?" asked Paul.

"He was just being nice," I said. "And he was already nervous with you four. Right Maureen?"

"I don't think I have a choice but to agree with you, judging by the tone of your voice and to curb the boys' wanting to make fun of you," said Maureen, shrugging.

"Awwww Jakie likes Sandy!" John exclaimed in his childish way.

"Man, knock it off guys, will ya?" asked George, suddenly very miffed. "Just leave her alone, it's not like the world's gonna implode just cause some bloke thinks she's attractive." With that he got up and went over to the bathrooms.

"Was it something we said?" asked Ringo.

"Yes, in fact, it was," said Maureen. "Don't you all know a crush when you see one?"

"Yeah, we just saw Jake putting the moves on Sandra, didn't we?" asked Paul.

"Oh, you guys are clueless," said Maureen, going back to her food. I started to wonder why George all of the sudden stormed off. Maybe he was just the type who didn't like the immature banter that the other boys were going on with. Yeah, sure, it looked like Jake was starting to have it bad for me, but how John had reacted was something I deemed unacceptable when I was ten or something. Could Maureen's hunch be right? She had mentioned it before, that I remembered, but something like that seemed highly unlikely. I mean—George Harrison, liking _me? _George was just moody perhaps. I was still worried about him running off though.

"Guys, I'm gonna go check on George," I said, standing up suddenly.

"I'm sure he's fine," said Ringo. "He just doesn't like it when John starts going on like he's still in diapers."

"I don't care, he looked upset," I said.

"Okay," said Ringo, shrugging. "Your choice." I nodded and left the table to look for George. I went around the back and saw that he was sitting outside on a bench smoking a cigarette. I wondered if he really just wanted to be alone for the time being and if I should go back to the table, but I was there already, so I should just talk to him. Slowly I pushed open the back door and crept outside, careful not to make too much noise. George heard me and turned around a bit.

"What're you doing out here, Sandra?" asked George with his usual demeanor.

"Just went out to check on you," I said, sitting down next to him. "The others said not to worry, but I thought you looked a little upset. You okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine," said George, blowing out smoke. "Just needed to get away from the noise; bad for my head." He took another drag of his cigarette.

"That's good," I said. "Good that nothing's wrong, I mean, not good that noise is bad for your head…ah geez…"

George laughed and put out his cigarette. "Sandra, why do you stumble over your words so much?" he asked. "It's kind of cute though."

"Uh…thanks?" I said, once again very unsure of what in the world George was talking about. "So…nothing wrong?"

"Not a thing," said George. "But I'm pretty sure you asked me that already."

"Wha—oh, yeah, I did, didn't I?" I stammered.

"Take it easy Sandra," said George, smiling and amused. "It's no problem."

"Right, it isn't," I said, still not sure what exactly to say. My heart was pounding a mile a minute, and I was still very unsure of what the hell was going on here. "It's really cold out." What? The w_eather? _I couldn't be serious, could I?

"Yeah, it is," said George. "A bit funny we've been shooting hot weather scenes on the beach in February."

I laughed, hoping that my stupid weather comment went by smoothly. "Yeah, I feel bad for you, having to wear beach clothes while I and the rest of the crew are all bundled up," I said.

"Eh, don't," said George. "You forget, the lads and I are from Liverpool, we're all used to the cold!"

"Oh, yeah, that's right," I said. "I'm from New York myself, all the way up north, I should be used to it too. Well, I _am _used to it, but—yeah…"

"There ya go again, speaking in tongues!" said George. "Ah, whatever, you'll get warmed up to us by the time we get to the next location I guess. Then you'll be talking like a normal person."

"What's all that supposed to mean?" I asked.

George shrugged. "Well, it's obvious that you're still very nervous around us, and that's okay," he said. "At least you're not nearly dropping plates like that poor Jake kid waiting our table!" We turned around to look at our group through the window and we saw Jake shakily refilling Paul's drink, spilling a couple times. He turned a little and saw us through the window. He jumped and gave me a feeble little wave. I smiled back and he almost fell over. He went back to refilling and George and I turned back around, chuckling. "Silly kid," said George.

"Yeah," I said. "Not at all my type." I added that last park quickly, just in case Maureen's hunch was right.

George laughed at that one too. Was I funny, or just a silly little girl? "Well, I shouldn't think he's your type now," he said.

"Why not?" I asked, curious.

"Well, despite your awkward way of speaking, you're quite the mature and professional young woman," said George. "Jake, while he's not too bad, is a silly kid. Nervous disposition and all. You guys would end up being a very odd couple."

"Who would I look good with?" The words just slid off my tongue…I had no way of stopping them.

"Well, someone like you," said George. "Mature, at least somewhat, and with a good old-fashioned common sense. You _have _dated before, I assume."

"Well, yeah," I said. "But nothing really lasting…my parents were the boyfriend Nazis."

"Funny term," said George. "Eh, they'll soften up eventually. Say, do you want to go back inside? I think my head can take the noise now."

"Yeah," I said. George and I got up, went back inside, and sat back down at our table.

"You okay then, George?" asked Paul, sipping at his overfull drink.

"Yeah," said George. "Just needed a smoke and that seemed like a good time to make an exit. I like to be dramatic ya know."

"Yeah, boy do we all know that," said John. "Sorry about that, mate."

"S'okay," said George. "I figure it's good for my character anyway."

"You good, Sandra?" asked Maureen. From that twinkle in her large eyes I knew what was on her mind.

"Yeah, it's all good," I said. Maureen smiled and leaned back.

"So, Sandra, when are we gonna see those photos you've been taking?" asked Paul.

"In due time," I said. "They need to be developed."

"Paulie wants his instant gratification is all," said John. "Ain't that right?"

"Hey, we all work hard!" said Paul. "And if the photographer needs time to get her pictures ready, I won't complain. We've all been through this before!"

"Alright Paul, keep your pants on," I said.

"Oh, well that's unlikely," said John. Paul jabbed him with his fork and finished eating. When we were all finished, we called over to Jake for the check. Jake came rushing over, nearly falling flat on his face, which had turned all of the colors of the setting sun.

"Here you go guys," he said, breathless, handing John the check. "Sandra," he said, nodding to me. I nodded back, but didn't say anything.

"Alright kid," said John, setting the money out on the table. "Damn American dollars, we're not even in America now…here, you keep this." John dug a handful of money out of his pocket without even counting it and shoved it into Jake's hand. He stood there, clutching the money, speechless.

"Wow…thanks man!" Jake sputtered.

"No problem kid," said John. "Now be a good boy and keep playing that guitar, you'll have something coming to you." Jake was still rooted to the floor but still managed to smile shyly at me as I passed him on my way out.

"So, what do you think Sandra?" asked Maureen to me, quietly. "That kid, or the famed George Harrison?"

"Oh, come on Maureen, not now," I said, blushing.

"Suit yourself," said Maureen, going off to Ringo. We all crammed into the taxi again and went back to the hotel. John, Paul, Ringo, and Maureen broke off from the crowd to go back to their room once we were back inside the hotel, but George stayed behind with me as I walked to my own room.

"I hope you enjoyed this evening," said George. "You know, it was my idea to invite you; Paul just beat me to asking you."

"I'm glad he did," I said. We had gotten to my door. "I did have fun."

"Happy about that," said George. "We'll have to do it again sometime. Who knows? Maybe we'll be another entertaining waiter."

I laughed. "Maybe, you never know!" I said.

"That's the spirit," said George. "Well, I guess this is where I have to leave you now…goodnight Sandra."

"Goodnight, George," I said. I started to open my door, but George took my hand and raised it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on it. I giggled nervously and blushed like a schoolgirl. George winked and walked off, leaving me to go back into my room, stroking my hand, wondering why.

The next morning I awoke to the sun shining through the curtains of my hotel room. There was a bird singing sweetly as I rose up and stretched not-so-gracefully. I climbed out of bed and did my normal morning ritual of a shower, getting dressed, the whole normal thing. I braided my hair in one single plait going down my back today as an extra precaution for it not to go crazy and made my way outside. I made my way over to the hallway closet to see if I could snag a towel or two for my room. I opened the door to take a look inside, and suddenly a hand reached out and pulled me in. I screamed, but the hand clamped over my mouth as the closet door closed. When my eyes gained focus again, I saw none other than the bright blue eyes and shaggy light brown hair of—

"You're that waiter from last night!" I hissed. "Jake! Man, what the hell?"

"I recognized you," said Jake, obviously scared silly from something. "Sandra, you need to help me, this is crazy man…"

"Jake, what in the _world _is the matter with you?" I asked.

"You know after you and The Beatles left the restaurant last night?" he asked.

"Of course," I said. "What happened?"

"Well, this older, scary guy came in when you left and he said he was working on the film you guys are doing with The Beatles and stuff," said Jake, amazingly keeping a level way of speaking. "He was kind of nasty when I told him that you all were there before; he doesn't really like the guys…well…this is where it gets…I dunno…he—he followed me home to my place where my band was over about to have rehearsal and he—he—"

"What did he do?" I asked, knowing exactly the man he was talking about…Alexander.

"He killed them," said Jake in a horrified whisper, clutching onto my arms and shaking. "Took a gun out and shot them…all of them…he tried to get me, but I made a run for it…man I'm so fucking freaked out Sandra, I can't even go back to my fucking house man, he knows where I am! It's all over the papers too!"

"Look Jake, we—we'll get our hands on the paper and bust the guy," I said. "Look, I know who you're talking about."

"You do?" asked Jake. He looked into my eyes and I saw the fear and the hurt. "Man, my fucking friends are dead man, _dead! _I want this guy busted!" He drew a ragged breath and loosened his grip on me.

"I'll bring you to the boys," I said. "We don't start shooting for a while, they can help hide you," I said.

"Oh, Sandra, how can I ever thank you?" said Jake, still trembling.

"I dunno, but I'll think of something," I said. "Come on, let's get out of the closet and I'll bring you to the boys' room."

"What if that man shows up?" asked Jake as we poked our heads out.

"He won't," I said. I grabbed Jake's hand and we made our way down to The Beatles' room. All the way down I wondered what in the world could make Alexander, no matter how hateful he already was, kill almost a whole band of kids. There had to be something more to this, and I'd be damned if I didn't find anything else out.


	6. Chapter 6

I swiftly led Jake down the hotel hallway, looking out for any sightings of Alexander anywhere. Jake was still pretty freaked out, but who could blame him after what he had gone through? He must have hid in that closet all night. "Come on Jake, just through here," I said.

Jake nodded. "Okay," he managed to say. He gripped my hand a little tighter with his clammy one, and I knocked on the guys' hotel room door. Opening it was Ringo with a toothbrush up his mouth. The others were all scattered about the room.

"What's going on here?" he asked, taking the toothbrush out. "Wait—is that the waiter from last night?"

"Yeah, we have to get him inside," I said urgently, dragging the poor kid in. "Something's happened."

"Yeah, well, we all gathered that," said Paul, coming over. "What's wrong?"

"Well…how do I put this…" I said, sitting Jake down on the couch. "You know how Alexander's a grumpy old man who hates all of you, right?"

"Ugly old thing too!" said John.

"John, that's not the point," I said. "It's just that…that he…"

"He followed me home last night and killed my band!" Jake blurted out. "And he tried to kill me too!"

"What?" asked Maureen. "That's crazy! Are you sure it was him?"

"Damn sure!" said Jake. "He came to the restaurant and he followed me home!"

"Well that's nuts," said George. "Although I think that it's an understatement. Sorry about your band, Jake."

"Thanks man," said Jake.

"What are you doing on the set right now if Alexander's here?" asked Paul. "Won't he recognize you?"

"He can't go back home, he's scared to," I said. "Alexander knows he got away and he knows where he lives. We need to hide him in the hotel, where Alexander won't find him."

"That's bonkers," said Ringo. "How are we gonna do that?"

"There's the costume department," said George. "All we need is a wig, maybe a couple prosthetics, and Jake's as good as new."

"George…you're a genius!" I said.

"Finally someone figured it out," said George.

"What am I supposed to do till you can get to the costumes?" asked Jake. "I can't go anywhere around the set as I am with that crazy guy hanging around!"

"Just hide here," said John. "The door will be locked, so no one can come in. Once we're done filming, we'll sneak some stuff back from the makeup trailer and BOOM! You won't look anything like yourself!"

"I really hope this is gonna work…" moaned Jake.

"Don't worry," I said. "We won't let you get hurt, we promise."

"Come on, we've gotta get out there before Brian chops us up," said Ringo. "There's food in some drawers Jake, just hide out here for now and you'll be fine."

"Alright…thanks…" said Jake as we left the room. John shut the door and locked it.

"Y'know, I had my suspicions, it was in this morning's paper," said George. "Didn't mention anything about Alexander though. You think the kid'll be okay?"

"I hope so," I said. "Come on, I think the taxi's there already, let's get moving before we get out heads ripped off." We all headed to the front of the hotel where the taxi was parked again. Brian was already sitting in the front and impatiently checking his watch. When he saw us approaching, he let out an exasperated sigh.

"Where _were _all of you?" he asked. "Or do I want to know?"

"I'll explain later," I said, piling in the taxi with everyone else. "It's a long and somewhat secret story."

"I knew I didn't want to know," said Brian. "Okay, let's get to the set." The driver took the hint and we drove off to the next set, on the beach again. Today would be essentially filming a music video to be stuck into the plot of the movie. It was Paul's "Another Girl." The drive was short, as we were on an island that was surrounded by beaches, and we all piled out of the taxi. The boys went to the makeup and wardrobe tent, leaving Maureen and I outside.

"That poor kid…" said Maureen, still disturbed. "I swear, the next time I see Alexander…"

"Don't," I said. "We can't act like we know anything, it'll give everything away."

"You're right," said Maureen. She sighed and walked off for a stroll along the beach, but didn't go too far beyond the set. I stood by and watched the waves. The boys came out of the tent all dressed and carrying instruments. Brian and Richard helped carry Ringo's drumset out, and they started to set up the scene. I decided that now would be a good time to snap a few quick shots of the set-up. Fans loved seeing behind-the-scenes stuff.

"Alright boys, let's get a move on, we haven't all day!" snapped an agitated as usual Alexander trudging onto the set. I fought the urge to tackle him and hold his face under the ocean water. Evil man…he was a murderer. But if I acted now, our cover would be blown, and Alexander would surely find and kill Jake. I had to hold my ground, no matter how hard it was.

"Alrighty Alexander, don't get all tied in a knot," John snapped back at him, obviously thinking something along the same lines that I was.

"Don't you backtalk me, boy," Alexander snarled. Once Alexander had his back turned, John made a rude face at him and went to playing his guitar.

"Okay boys, take your places!" Richard called. With that, a bevy of bathing suit-clad girls was released onto the set, and the filming began. It was mostly the boys playing along to the pre-recorded record, running around and doing a whole bunch of stupid stuff, like swapping instruments and throwing stones and the like. Paul was even instructed to pull aside a girl, take off his bass, and start playing the girl like a bass instead. Of course, it was much like the stuff they did in "A Hard Day's Night" the year before. Of course, there were many takes and much getting yelled at by Alexander (Brian quickly shut him the hell up before anyone could get loose and jump him).

"Okay boys, take a break," said Richard. "Great job, all of you."

"Thanks Richard," said Paul. He walked over to me. "Say, Sandra, you looked like you ate something sour this morning as soon as Alexander came onto set."

"Well, do you blame me?" I asked. "That man…well, I'm not gonna say it here, but you know what."

"Yeah, I understand," said Paul.

"Hey, Paulie, we gotta nick some stuff from the tent, remember?" said John as he passed with George and Ringo.

"Oh, right," said Paul. "Hang on Sandra, we gotta get some stuff for Jake." Paul joined the other three and dove into the tent. I walked away and found Maureen who was still wandering about.

"You feeling any better?" I asked her.

"A bit," said Maureen. "Pregnancy hormones act up occasionally…although I'd be in a rage even without them, with what's happened. It's despicable."

"Yeah," I said. "But hopefully we can get to the bottom of this and figure out what's going on. We just need to focus on Jake not being caught." At that precise moment, the boys came back looking like they were sneaking something; most likely the few things needed to hide Jake's appearance. "Did you get what you needed?"

"Yeah," said George. "Come on, the taxi's waiting again, we have to get back to the hotel to fix up Jake. I hope he's doing okay back there."

"He should be fine," I said. "You showed him where the food was." Just then, I felt a sudden darkness in the mood take over. I turned around and saw Alexander standing over us.

"Now…where are you kids headed to?" he asked.

"B—back to the hotel," I said feebly.

"I see," said Alexander, making me all the more nervous.

"What's that to you, sir?" asked George. "I do believe we have the right to go where we please."

"No one asked you, kid," said Alexander.

"That wasn't very nice sir," said John. "You did ask where we were going you know."

"I don't care what I asked!" Alexander snapped. "You know—never mind, just do whatever the hell you want, I can't talk to any of you right now." He wheeled around and stormed off. I swear, all he needed was a long, billowy cape and he'd be perfect.

"Man, do I wanna give him a piece of me," said Ringo. "When the time comes, I don't care who he's killed or didn't kill, I'm gonna give him what for."

"Calm down Ritchie," Maureen cooed. "We'll give him to the police; they'll sort it all out for us. Come on, before the evil producer comes to get us again." The group of us went back to the taxi for a ride back to the hotel.

"Are you coming to our room with us?" asked Paul. "You know, to help with Jake?"

"I suppose I should," I said. "I mean, I was the one he pulled into the closet anyway."

"I'm telling ya, that boy likes you!" said John.

"John, I think it's hardly the time for that sort of talk," I said. "He watched his friends die, or do you not remember?"

"Oh, right…" said John, dejected. The short trip back to the hotel was soon over, and the group of us scrambled out of the cab to get up to the room as quickly as possible and without being seen by Alexander.

"What did you pick up, by the way?" I asked as we walked through the hall.

"Oh, a wig, a fake nose, and some facial hair," said Ringo. "We wanted to be safe."

"Maybe we can say he's related to you, Ringo," said John. "What with that nose we're gonna be putting on him!"

"Ah, knock it off, will ya John?" said Ringo, rubbing his nose. "I was born with it, I can't help it!"

"Please John, can you actually be serious?" I asked. We stopped by the door to their room where Jake was hiding away. "This is a serious situation! Really, you're a grown man, stop acting like you're still in diapers." John sighed and went to open the door. He probably should have knocked first, because as soon as the door opened, a flesh-colored blur darted across the room to hide under the sofa. "Jake, come on out, it's us," I said soothingly. Jake, as if he was a kitten trying to be coaxed out of a hiding place peered out from behind the couch with his big blue eyes and came out.

"Sorry…" he said, standing up and walking over. "You guys surprised me, I wasn't expecting you back just now."

"It's okay Jake," said John. "We have some goodies for you!" The boys pelted him with the costume objects they had stolen from the tent.

"Wow, thanks guys," said Jake, admiring all of the things. "This should at least get me a way to not be stuck in a room all day long."

"Let's get all of this stuff on ya," said George, walking over to try and stuff Jake's shaggy hair into the black wig.

"Oh, let me," said Maureen, pushing herself over. "I'm the hairdresser George, there's a way to apply a wig properly."

"Be my guest, your majesty," said George, walked off to me. Maureen gave him a dirty look and went back to fixing up Jake's hair into the wig.

"Do you really—ow—think this is gonna work?" asked Jake as Maureen yanked everything into place.

"Well, with only the wig it looks suspicious," said Paul. "But once we get the nose and the facial hair on, you'll be like a different person."

"This is like some fucked-up version of the witness protection program," said Jake, standing up to admire his new wig in the mirror.

"Well, I guess that's what this is turning out to be," said Ringo. "All right, let's get the other stuff on him." Luckily, the boys had taken the glue and makeup needed to make the prosthetic nose look real on his face. Once that was applied, George had a hand at applying the false facial hair, and once that was perfected, Jake was barely recognizable.

"Well…he looks pretty good," I said.

"Do you think he needs eye color contacts?" asked George.

"No, I think that'll be overkill," I said. "So…what do you think, Jake?"

"I think I don't look anything like myself," said Jake, staring at himself in the mirror. "What the hell am I gonna call myself now?"

"From this moment forth," spoke John in a thespian manner with a heavy posh accent. "You shall be known as Donny Brown, hanger-on of the group, and given permission by us, The Beatles, to go on this quest we call 'filming a movie' with us!" He finished with a flourish of his hand.

"Donny Brown," said Jake. "Did you come up with that name out of thin air?"

"As a matter of fact, yes," said John. "Do you like it?"

"I guess it'll have to do," said Jake. "You all are the best in the world for helping me out like this, really, you are." He turned to me and have me the most glowing look I had ever seen.

"Well, I'm glad we were able to help Jake—oh, I mean Donny," said George, swiftly stepping between Jake and me. "I gotta get used to calling you that now."

"Yeah, we can't slip up," I said. "And it's no problem at all, Jake." Jake smiled a pained smile, but I could tell he was trying to be sincere.

"What are we gonna do when we change locations?" asked Ringo. "We're due to go to Austria in a couple of days. Are you coming with us?"

"I suppose," said Jake. "If I go back home, even with Alexander gone, he may still try and find me…and I don't think I can go back there just yet, with all that's happened…" He trailed off, his eyes becoming vacant, and I knew exactly what he was thinking.

"If you want to come to Austria with all of us, I'm sure that we can convince Brian and Richard," I said. "Would you be opposed to us telling them exactly what happened? We can trust those two, they're a hell of a lot nicer than Alexander."

"If that's what it'll take," said Jake.

"Well, it's settled then," said Paul. "Man, I'm exhausted…I think I'm gonna turn in for the night. What about the rest of you?"

"Sounds good to me," said Ringo. "I need a rest from everything that's been thrown at us…no offence Jake, by any means."

"None taken," said Jake. With that, everyone went off to bed. I started to walk down to my own room when George caught me.

"What's up George?" I asked.

"Sandra, I just wanna say…" but he trailed off. "I want to tell you…" Again, no finish.

"You—you can tell me when you know what you want to say," I said.

"All right, seems it's all for the best," said George, "Just…I don't think, no matter how much Jake likes you, that it's a good idea for you two to get involved…ya know, for your safety."

"I never thought about it in the first place," I said.

"Good," said George. He started to walk away, but he turned back around to look at me one last time. He walked away again, leaving me to go off to my room alone and rack my brains once again about what in the hell George Harrison was talking about. It seemed that I would never know what went on in that deep, brooding head of his.

**Author's Note:**

**After this chapter, production will be delayed somewhat because of me going back to that thing called college class. I'll try to get em out as fast as I can, but it won't be every day like it has been. Well, I hope you enjoyed that last chapter, and thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning, I awoke to a note that had been placed on my nightstand. On that note, surprise surprise, was another, smaller note. I painstakingly rose out of my bed to look at what the first note said.

"_Sandra,_

_I decided to go down and see if you got your reply from Martha yet. Well, you did, so read away. It may help distract you from everything that's going on, anyway._

_George." _

I smiled to myself as I read it. Leave it to George to go and do something like that. I was glad Martha wrote me back; it gave me a sense that some things were still alright. I put George's little note aside and went to open the envelope to Martha's. I started to read:

"_Hey Sandra!_

_ I'm so happy for you that you're having such a good time in The Bahamas! You are one lucky girl, you know that? So…what did you do when those Beatles started smoking on the flight? Did you join? Oh, who am I kidding, of course not! I was only kidding with you, ya know. And it's funny, I always pictured John as possibly being annoying, but now that you've confirmed it, I can definitely see it. I hope I hear more from your adventures, and maybe you'll see me…I can try to infiltrate the film crew! Have more fun!_

_Love,_

_Martha." _

I smiles at Martha's usual quirky ways, but frowned a bit at the fact that she didn't know what was happening yet. Yes, I was having some sort of fun, but as I thought of poor Jake in the next room in a disguise and Alexander the murderer on the set, my mood darkened. I tried to think of something that would get me through the morning as I started to get ready to go. Pictures flooded through my mind and they finally settled on one thing…I didn't know why, but the big dark eyes of George Harrison flitted across my head. Maybe it was because of the note for Martha's letter, but it did and I didn't know for sure. His last words to me last night went through too…about wanted to tell me something, and then going on with how I shouldn't be with Jake…somehow it made me feel stranger. As I dressed myself and fixed my hair, I tried to drift away from those thoughts and onto thoughts of shooting my photos today.

When I was all ready, I thought it a good idea to go down to the boys' room and check on them, including Jake. Well—mostly Jake, but a little bit of George too. Damn it, there I go about George again! I was going to need a long nap…or a warm bath…or something. Just to rest my mind. I made my way down the hall again and knocked on the door. George, of all people, answered the door, obviously just finished dressing; his hair as still a messy mop atop his head.

"Well, good morning Sandra," he said sleepily, which was one of the cutest things I'd ever seen. "Didn't think I'd see you here."

"I thought I'd come by," I said. "Thanks for getting me Martha's letter, by the way. It was a nice thing to wake up to."

"Not a problem," said George. "You can come in if you want."

"Sure," I said. George held the door open for me and I walked inside. I saw that the main room was empty. "Where's everyone?"

"They all went downstairs for breakfast," said George, sitting on the couch. "Come on, I don't bite."

"Even Jake?" I asked, taking a seat. It seemed like I had said the wrong thing, because George's face turned stony.

"Yeah, he was in disguise though," he said. "He'll be fine. I hope you're not getting too close to him…it's risky."

"Of course I'm not," I said. "Why are you so worried about that?"

"I just don't want to see you hurt," said George. "I'm fond of you, ya know."

"I'm rather fond of you too, George," I said.

"Well, of course you are," said George with a smile. "I'm George bloody Harrison for Crist's sake! If you're not fond of me, there may be something wrong!"

I laughed. "George, it's not just because you're a Beatle," I said. "Granted, it does have a lot to do with it, but I just think you're an all-around good guy."

"Is that so?" said George.

"Well—yeah," I said. George raised an eyebrow, and it made me double think on what I had just said…was it a good thing? It was probably just George being George again. He had a special knack for making me feel nervous when I really didn't need to feel that way. "If I didn't think you were a good guy, I wouldn't be here talking to you."

"Oh, well that's good, you're not one of those two-faced birds," said George. "That makes me feel better. Not that I felt bad in the first place, that is."

"Well, I'd hope you never felt bad about me," I said. "I mean—I don't think everyone has a stable opinion of me all the time, but—well—you know."

"I think you need speech coaching," said George. "You stutter too much…it's kind of cute though."

I made to say something, but I wasn't sure, so what came out of my mouth was a series of grunts and squeaks. I blushed a bit as I sat back in the couch. "Do you—want to go down to breakfast?" I finally asked.

George laughed a little. "Sure Sandra," said George. "I think the others are still down there, we can go and meet them." I tried to get off of the couch, but the cushion was too soft, and I fell back in again. George laughed and reached his hand out to me when he got up with ease. "Well?" he asked, gesturing to me.

"Ah," I said, holding back a blush as I took George's hand. It was large, and warm too. I felt the roughness of his fingertips that got there from his guitar playing. He swiftly pulled me up off of the couch and to my feet. I caught myself right before I was about to fall over right on top of him—that would have been very awkward. "Thanks," I muttered bashfully.

"Don't mention it," said George. I noticed that he was still holding my hand. We both kind of looked down at our locked hands for a second, and then looked back up at each other, both glowing red.

"Ah, yeah, let's…let's go," I said, swiftly taking my hand away. Why was my heart beating so fast?

"Good idea," said George. We both walked out the door, no longer hand in hand, and down to where everyone else was out eating breakfast downstairs. We got downstairs to the dining room to see everyone we were counting on seeing sitting and eating.

"Hey, look who it is finally!" called John with a mouthful of food. "Hey guys! What were you doing all alone?"

"Shove it, John," said George, taking a seat. I took a seat between him and the disguised Jake. "I just didn't want to leave so early with you."

"Whatever you say," said John. "How are you, Sandra?"

"Not bad," I said. "Hey, Jake—uh—Donny, you good?"

"Been better," said Jake glumly. "Man, this fake beard is way too itchy…"

"Just deal with it," I said. "Did we tell Brian and Richard yet?"

"Not yet," said Paul. "We figured we'd do it when they came over here…you know, save time to think of an explanation."

"I said to just give them the one he told us," said Ringo. "They wouldn't listen."

"We don't wanna scare him!" said Paul. "And besides, maybe Jake doesn't wanna reveal himself."

"Guys, I already told you that you could tell them," said Jake, looking aggravated. "It really doesn't matter if we can trust them and they can help."

"I actually think I do remember that," said Maureen. "It's okay Ritchie, you can give him the real story, you're not going crazy."

"You see, I _told _you!" said Ringo with an accusing tone.

"Okay Rings, don't get your pants in a knot," said Paul. "So when're we gonna tell them?"

"Don't look now, but I think they're coming over now," said George. Sure enough, Briand and Richard where on their way.

"Morning boys…and ladies," said Richard, giving a nod of acknowledgment to me and Maureen. "And…oh, who are you?" All eyes turned to Jake, who went paper white. Everyone else was searching for something to say.

"Well…hey there Eppy, can you and Richard come to somewhere secluded so we can talk about this?" asked John awkwardly.

"Oh, what is this _now _Lennon?" Brian moaned.

"You'll see," said John, shooting up off his chair swiftly, dragging his three other bandmates, me, Maureen, Jake, Brian, and Richard with him. Once we were safely around the corner where no one would hear what was going on, John started to think. "So…what should I say here…" he contemplated. "Sandra? You have something?"

All eyes turned to me, who was currently enjoying being quiet about everything for the time being. I shot John a dirty look and started to figure out what to say. "Well…uh…you know…the new kid?"

"Yes…well—no—but you get the idea," said Brian. "What about him?"

"Well…how do I put this…" I said, twirling a lock of my already curly hair while Jake stood in the corner looking terrified and nervous. "Basically…he's kind of in our version of the witness protection program…or so to speak."

"What the devil are you talking about?" asked Brian.

"Oh man…let me figure out how to say this…" I said. I felt s bead of sweat trickle down my forehead as I just stood there in silence, thinking of a delicate way to word the situation, which was virtually impossible anyway. "Let me piece it out for you—his name is Jake, and basically he was caught in the middle of some murders…of his bandmates…" Jake's face grew somber. "…and the guy who killed them tried to kill him too, and he's hiding out here."

"I think this was in the paper!" said Richard. "About the triple murder in The Bahamas. You must be the lucky guy who got away, son."

"Not too lucky," said Jake. "The guy who killed my band is actually on this set."

Brian grew pale. "Oh no…why was it?"

"Alexander something," said Jake. "I think they said he was the co-producer of the film?" "What, Alexander?" asked Richard. "Look guys, I know he's not the most pleasant man in the world, but I seriously doubt he'd kill anybody."

"Well, that's where you're wrong!" Jake suddenly snapped, ghost white under his black wig and false beard. "That…man, if you can call him one, came into the restaurant where I worked the other day after these guys left, acted all mean, and followed me home, where he killed my Goddamned band! I'm telling you, it was him, I'm never gonna forget it!"

"Well, if this is true," said Brian, who looked on the very edge of passing out. "What are you doing in the very hotel he is staying and all ready to go on set with the boys?"

"Well…" said George. "We sort of nicked some stuff from the costume tent off the set, ya know, to keep him incognito."

"We also gave him a fake name," said Ringo. "Donny Brown."

"Oh my…" said Brian, putting his face in his hands. "Well boys, I think you've really done it this time…"

"What do you mean?" asked Paul.

"No idea," said Brian.

"Well, what do you say Eppy, can we keep him, can we, can we?" asked John as if he was a small child staring at a puppy in a pet shop window.

Brian looked at John, trying to keep stony faced, but his eyes looked as stressed as ever. "If you _must_ Lennon," he said. "But how do we know for sure that it was Alexander who did this?"

"Because I saw him dammit!" said Jake.

"Maybe you can ask him some questions about the news article," I suggested. "Depending on his reaction, you can see. I for one believe Jake though."

"I don't see a reason not to," said Richard. "The boy knows what he saw."

"_Thank _you," breathed Jake. "Just…don't forget to call me Donny…I guess…"

"Oh, fine," said Brian. "Sandra, we'll do what you suggested. But I'm still not sure." I could see that Jake was looking rather bothered that Brian wasn't believing him about Alexander.

"Let's just drop it for now," said Maureen. "I think we should get to the set and start things up. Just…I think we should try to keep Jake as far away from Alexander as possible, just in case."

"Good idea," said Richard. "Come on everybody, the taxies are out front again. Sandra, come with me and Brian today."

"Yes sir," I said. I saw George looking slightly dejected as Richard told me that, and I wondered why. I knew it was cliché to think so, but how in the world could the great George Harrison see anything in me? We walked over from our corner to the front of the hotel again and we filed into our separate taxies.

"I'll see you on set," said George. Jake gave me a sad look too, but I didn't know if it was feelings for me or what he was going through. Either way, it was unsettling.

"Same here," I said. We smiled at each other as we sat down in out taxies. Brian took the front passenger seat and Richard and I sat in the back. "What a week it's been," I moaned, taking the time to stretch my neck and lean back.

"I would agree," said Richard. The taxi took off. "So do you believe Jake's story?"

"Yes, I do, in fact," I said. "I don't see a reason not to, like you said, and I have to admit I think and have always thought Alexander is a bad egg."

"Yes, he is rather grumpy," said Brian. "But I really don't think he's a killer."

"But for now we have to be careful," I said. "Just in case he _is _a killer, _the _killer, we have to be on our toes and watch out. We have to keep Jake disguised, call him by his pseudonym, and keep him the hell away from Alexander. Jake's word is really the only thing we have to go on right now until we can get more proof."

"You know Sandra, you really think beyond your years," said Richard. "You are exactly right."

"Oh…uh…thank you sir," I said, losing all poise of speech at that moment. I knew I had more of a sense of maturity, especially more of that than the boys most of the time, but hearing it from someone like Richard humbled me greatly.

"Not a problem," said Richard.

"And what happens if Alexander _is _the killer?" asked Brian.

"I guess we get the cops or something," I said, shrugging. "It's the only logical explanation…I mean…why would we go after him ourselves if he's _that _dangerous?"

"Yes, good thinking Sandra," said Richard. The taxi kept on driving until it got to the beach again. Today would be some reshoots of beach scenes. I wondered to myself what Jake's reaction would be when we finally got to the set. I really hoped he was able to keep his cool.


	8. Chapter 8

The taxies pulled up to the beach set, and we all filed out of both of them. As I stood in the sand outside the taxi I came in, I saw Jake coming out of his, nearly falling flat on his nervous face. Poor guy; I wished deeply that there was more I could do to help him, but all we could do for now was—well—this. Brian, Richard, and I approached the boys and Maureen and met in the middle.

"Hey," I said. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, I know, what's it been, five minutes?" joked John.

"Funny John," I said.

"But it is great to see you again," said George.

"Pretty good," I said. "How are you J—uh—Donny?"

"This sucks," said Jake. "This is terrible, and it sucks…and my nose better not fall off, we had to re-stick it back in the taxi…"

"Yeah, it was pretty bad," said Ringo. "Hopefully we got it, we had some of that extra prosthetic stuff with us, and we still do just in case we have issues again."

"This is all just stupid," said Jake again. "Maybe I should just move to Africa or something and not worry about any of this crap."

"Just a little longer," said Maureen. At that moment, it happened.

"Alright you idiot kids, get moving! Come on, we haven't got all day move it!" Alexander gruffly shouted and stomped onto the beach. I saw Jake pale and quiver at the sight of the man who had killed his band right in front of him and tried to go after him. "Well? Are our feet glued to the floor? Let's _go!" _

"Alrighty Alex, we're going, we're going!" said John.

Alexander grabbed John by his shirt collar. "_Don't _call me that," he growled menacingly. John gulped and smiled nervously.

"L—let him go," Jake stuttered, trying to sound noble, but stumbling over it in the process.

Alexander moved his dangerous gaze to Jake and let go of John, tossing him back a little bit. "Who in the hell are you?" Alexander hissed.

"Oh—I'm—uh—Donny. Donny Brown," Jake stuttered, thankfully remembering his pseudonym. "I'm a friend of the guys."

"I see," said Alexander. "Well, I can see why you are, because no desirable person would dare backtalk his elders like these dirty rock and roll musicians. I do not tolerate such insolence." Jake glared at him but said nothing. I could tell that through the tough shell he was hiding behind, he was terrified.

"Okay, I think we should get to work, we're burning daylight," I said, gently separating Jake and Alexander. "Lots of work to do!"

"Too right," said Alexander flatly. He walked off.

"Don't worry Jake, we'll set him straight," Paul whispered, careful for no one to hear Jake's real name.

"We better," said Jake. He hung his head and walked off to the other side of the set and sat down in the sand.

I started to step off to go over to him, but George grabbed me. "No Sandra, not now," he said. "Just…just let him cool off, he's having a hard time."

"But—" I started to say, but George gave me that intense, stony look with his dark eyes and I stopped. It wasn't worth it to argue. Instead, George gave me a pat on the shoulder and went off to join the rest of the boys to the set in and Maureen went over to me as I started up my camera. "Sometimes I just don't understand that guy," I said.

"Who?" asked Maureen.

"George," I said. I took a practice shot of the set to see if my settings were right and once they were, I put my camera back down so it hung around my neck across my chest. "He speaks in riddles and everything. I mean, he's a really cool guy and I get a kick out of him, but still…I just wish he'd say exactly what he means sometimes."

"Oh, but he _does _say exactly what he means!" said Maureen. "Trust me, when you've known him for as long as I have, you'll start to get him."

"It's only been about a week for me," I said.

"You've still got a while," said Maureen.

"Fantastic," I said bluntly. I should try to stop reading him though. It really wasn't worth it, all of the headache, the stress, the thinking…at least not yet. The thing to focus on, while I did have a strange fascination with George, was Alexander and Jake. I glanced over at the very bothered-looking young waiter sitting in the sand before the filming of the reshoots started and it was time for me to man my camera. This shooting was more glum than the others; maybe because of Jake laying out all melancholy in the sand, or Alexander shooting disapproving looks to The Beatles and suspicious looks to Jake. I tried to get as little shots of Alexander as possible. When the shoot was done and my photos published, I didn't want to have any physical memory of that horrible man, unless it was a mug shot.

"Okay boys, that's a wrap!" Richard called when the cameras, including mine, stopped. "Great work here; tomorrow night we leave for Austria to start shooting scenes there, so start packing when you get home tonight!"

"That's great," said Ringo, who was walking over to me with the other guys. "I've always liked that place…with the kangaroos and koalas and all."

"He said 'Austria', not 'Australia' you dunce," said John. "Austria has snow and mountains, not kangaroos!"

"Not to mention good sausage," said George. "You ever been, Sandra?"

"Never been anywhere in my life…except New York, California, and here, that is," I said. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, she's never been to George's good sausage either, has she?" said John with a sneaky smile.

"Ah…" the noise I was making and the words I were going to say got caught in my throat and I literally felt the blush spread all across my face. I was so embarrasses; I gasped for air trying to say something, possible witty, but I just looked like a fish out of the fishbowl making strange noises. I looked over at George and he looked a little uncomfortable as well.

"Leave her along John," said Paul. "Seriously, no wonder you rub her the wrong way; the poor girl's mortified!"

"Well, sorry," said John. "It's not my fault I'm a dirty pervert, it's my nature!"

"Well cut it out then, will ya?" asked George. "You can be a right git, you know that?"

"Yes, we all know," said Maureen, skillfully avoiding a large-scale argument. "Is Jake still over there?"

"I'm coming," said Jake, plodding up to us through the sand. "Man, why does he have to be here…here, now? It's not right…"

"I know, he's an ass," I said. "Well, more than just an ass, but don't worry, we'll figure this out."

"We better," said Jake. "Cause this beard is starting to itch really bad."

"Well, who don't you shave then?" asked George. Jake gave him a look but George was smiling lazily; he knew what he had said.

"Let's just get back to the hotel and get ready to go to the next location," I said. "I think a change of scenery would do us all some good."

"You're telling me," said Jake. "Am I coming with all of you?"

"If you want," said Paul. "Brian and Richard already know your story. It all depends on if you're ready to go back home yet."

"Oh, God no," said Jake. "I don't care if—he's here, I ain't going back there yet."

"Whatever floats your boat mate," said Paul. "Okay guys, I think Brian's starting to get impatient." Brian, in fact, was standing about ten feet away from us at one of the taxis, tapping his foot impatiently. "I think we should go."

"Never heard it better," said John. "Alright everybody, we're the hell outta here!"

"Behave yourself Lennon," said Brian. "Come on Sandra, we'll meet them back at the hotel."

"See you guys," I said as the group split into separate cars again.

"See you, Sandra," said George, giving me a longing look. I looked back at him longer than I meant to while walking backwards into the taxi, so I bashed my head on the roof of the car as I tried to slide in.

"Oh _shit!" _I hissed as I sat down, rubbing the back of my head in pain. The world spun around me in circles as I watched the other taxi drive off.

"Watch your head, Sandra," said Richard with a grin.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

"Not a problem," said Richard. "How are you holding up, Brian?"

"Lousy," said Brian from the front. "I'm still having a hard time grasping…I mean, honestly, didn't we do some sort of background check on Alexander before all of this?"

"Brian, I don't think a background check has anything to do with it," I said. "I don't understand why it's so hard for you to grasp it—Alexander's a very unpleasant man who hates rock and roll music. _And _Jake saw him in person that day!"

"Sandra dear, just because someone's unpleasant doesn't mean he will kill someone for no reason," said Brian. "But if you _must _believe Jake, then by all means, do." The taxi finally started up and we were off back to the hotel.

"But did you see his face when he saw Alexander?" I said. "He looked terrified!"

Brian made as if to speak up, but stopped. I could tell he just didn't want to deal with the added stress of a murderer loose on the set.

"So Sandra, to change the subject, are you excited about Austria?" said Richard. "I've heard it's very nice there."

"Yes, I am," I said, grateful that the subject of Alexander was dropped, at least for now. "I don't go a lot of places."

"Well, I'm sure you're getting your chance here," said Richard. "Yes, there is a light side to all of this!" Of course, that was what I had to think of. Yes, Alexander was a problem, but it did no good to only think of the bad. Pretty soon, the taxies were back at the hotel and we all got out once again.

"Okay boys, once you get back into the hotel, it's straight to your room and _no _dilly-dallying," said Brian. "We need to make sure we get packed up tonight so we're ready first thing in the morning to get on the plane!"

"Yeah, yeah Eppy, we're going!" shouted John as we made our way into the building. "We'll be packed when we're packed!"

"Oh, you better be packed," said Brian. "And you four better not smog up the whole bloody plane this time with your damn marijuana smoke!"

"Relax Brian," said George. "We can open a window."

"Jesus Harrison, not on a _plane!" _moaned Brian. "I swear, sometimes I just don't get you. Yeah, I thought. Story of my life.

"I know that," said George. "I was just messing with ya is all, you know that." He walked passed Brian and stopped next to me. "You knew I was only making a funny, didn't you?"

"Uh…yeah, yeah, sure," I said. I had no clue what else to say, really.

"So, Jake, how are you doing," said Richard, turning over to a still very disgruntled Jake. Richard was just so cheery all the time. It was a good counter to all of this crazy shit happening all around me.

"Well…not too bad, I guess," said Jake. It was sad to see him as such a far cry from the nervous, bubbly, star struck waiter he was only a few days ago. "The sooner this is over the better."

"So we've gathered," said Brian. We entered the hallway where our rooms were. "Okay everybody, pack quickly so we have the time to get a full nights' sleep before the morning."

"But would we have a full days' sleep before the night?" asked George. The other Beatles snickered and I, once again, was completely lost.

"Harrison, _please _don't go Lennon on me," said Brian.

"But sir, that's not even _close _to anything I'd say," said John. "George is just being his own man."

Brian slammed his face in his hands again. "Oh boys…" he moaned.

"We'll try not to give you such a hard time in Austria," said Ringo. "We may be frozen after all."

"I'll keep a closer eye on them," said Maureen finally. "Me and Sandra."

"I didn't ever recall volunteering," I muttered.

"Try your best love," said Paul. "God knows we need looking after."

"You sure do," I said. With that, I broke off from the group to go to my own room. When I walked in, I dragged my dusty suitcase out from under my bed. I sneezed from the dust that had gathered on it from only the short week it had been under there. I began to go through my dressers to pack up all of my clothes and other things I found lying around my room that I had forgotten I had brought along with me. I was about halfway done when I heard a knock on my door. "Come in, it's open," I called. In came George.

"D'ya need help packing then?" he asked, walking inside.

"I'm just taking a break," I said. "I hate packing."

"Who doesn't?" asked George.

"Are you done already?" I asked. We both sat down on my bed.

"Eh, mostly, I just got bored and wanted a change of scenery," said George.

"So my room is a change of scenery?" I asked.

"Somewhat," said George. "It's a little cleaner. Ya know, cause only one bird lives in it, you'd figure just as much."

I laughed. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?" I said.

"Yeah, I would," said George. "So…you still need help packing Sandra?"

I shrugged. "Sure, why not?" I said. We both got up off of the bed, knocking into each other and blushing bashfully as we bent down to grab the suitcase. Why George was so intent on helping me pack, I'd be thinking about later that night, as usual, but for the present I was grateful for his help. Maybe going to Austria would clear my head some more.


	9. Chapter 9

Of course, in order to catch the flight to Austria to get there at the time we were supposed to, we all had to get up at the crack of dawn. I felt as if I had barely closed my eyes before my alarm was blaring at me, shouting as if to say, "Get your _lazy _ass out of this bed you big fat lump!" I lay there in bed for a moment, temporarily paralyzed, and then stiffly sat up, making a sound like a creaking chair. I looked out the window and frowned; no one should have to wake up before the sun.

Dressing was slow because I found that I had to dig through my fully-packed suitcase to find something to wear. I cursed myself for not thinking ahead as I messed up all of my neatly folded clothing in search for something nice to wear. Once I found one of my pencil skirts, white shirt, and blazer, I tried to fold my clothes up again somewhat neatly as they were before. I was brushing my hair and braiding it when I heard a knock on my door. I sighed, put my glasses on, and walked over to answer it. It was Jake standing outside, already in his wig and beard, holding his prosthetic nose with an uncharacteristic bashful grin. "Hey Sandra…mind helping me with the nose? I'm having some trouble," he said.

"Oh, no, not at all," I said. "Come on in." Jake walked in holding the false nose and sat down on a chair.

"Sorry about barging in like this," said Jake. "The others in my room were busy so I just thought I'd try you."

"It's fine," I said. "Do you have the adhesive?"

"Oh, yeah, right here," said Jake, taking the adhesive out of his pocket. "You know how to do it, right?"

"Yeah, I've seen it enough times," I said. "If I screw up I'm sure one of the others can fix it without anyone noticing."

"Thanks," said Jake, handing me the nose and the adhesive. I bit my lip in concentration as I put the false nose onto his real one, trying my best to get it straight. It took me a few tries to get it right, but once I painstakingly got it, I applied the flesh-colored adhesive carefully, blending it as well as I could into Jake's own skin. He made it difficult a few times, wrinkling his nose because of a tickle, but after a few minutes I had it on as neat as I could get it.

"You may wanna have someone check it," I said. "But it should hold up until you find someone."

"Thanks again Sandra," said Jake, blushing under his false beard. His blue eyes averted mine in his characteristic shyness. "I—uh—I gotta go." He clumsily stood up, nearly falling flat on his back, and walked out of the door, covering up his nose just in case it wasn't convincing enough. I decided it was time for me to leave my room myself. I bent down and lugged my tightly packed suitcase to drag it out of my room. Brian had told me that the crew would take care of checkout, so all I had to do was leave my key on the pillow and go down for breakfast.

I lugged the suitcase into the elevator, and out of it once it got to the ground floor. I muttered many cursed for not having one with wheels. I finally made my way over to the dining room and stood the suitcase up by the table I wanted to save. It was very early, so there was hardly anyone down yet, but the food would be fresh having not sat around all morning. I left my suitcase by the table and went into the buffet line. I felt someone come up next to me, and surprise, surprise, it was none other than George.

"Oh, good morning Sandra," he said sleepily, grabbing up some pancakes. "How are you?"

"Fine," I said. "Tired."

"Well yeah," said George. "I mean, what time is it? I don't even think it's six-thirty yet."

"Don't remind me," I said, taking a muffin and going back to my table with George. "Where are the others?"

"They should be down," said George. "They're helping Jake get himself together. I admit, you did okay on his nose but it needed some touching up. Funny he went to you, actually, we were all perfectly ready to help him."

"Okay—so maybe he likes me," I said. "But that doesn't mean I want him."

"Good to know," said George. "You're listening to my warnings."

"Well…it's not just your warnings," I said.

George looked up, raising a thick eyebrow. "Oh? It's not now?" he said. "What is it then?"

"I—I just don't like him, that's all," I said. "Look George, I think we have this conversation every time we get together."

"Sorry ma'am," said George, tipping an invisible hat. "So what do you want to talk about then?" I was about to open my mouth to say something (I had no clue what) when John, Paul, and Ringo came over to the table.

"Well hey, hey, if it isn't the lovebirds!" exclaimed John, patting George on the back.

"Ah, shaddup John," said George.

"What?" asked John as he sat down with the other two and us. "Ain't it true?"

"No, it's not," I said. "And it's way too early for this John, cool it…where are Maureen and Jake?"

"Maureen's fixing Jake up for last-minute tweaking so he doesn't fall apart on the plane," said Ringo. "Alexander's gonna be on the flight so we need to be extra careful."

"Yeah Sandra, you kind of did a sorry job on the nose, just so ya know," said Paul.

"Well excuse me for being a photographer and not a makeup artist," I said.

"You're excused," said Paul. "So how long till we board the plane again?"

"Ask Eppy, he's the one who knows," said John. "I tell ya, it'll be nice to get out of this bloody cold here."

"But…isn't it snowing in Austria now?" I asked.

"Well, at least it's _supposed _to be cold up there!" said John. "I mean, who's ever heard of a cold beach?"

"Well, what about the beaches by the Arctic Ocean?" asked Ringo. "I reckon it's pretty bloody cold over there."

"Ah, who asked you?" said John. "Come on guys, eat up, Eppy's gonna find any excuse to be up our asses this morning, you know how he gets."

"Since when does the great John Lennon care about what Mr. Epstein thinks?" asked George.

"Since he got beat up by him last night," said Paul.

"Did that really happen?" I asked. Hey, you never know!

"What the hell woman, are you mad?" said John. "Of course not, what do you think I am, a ninny?"

"Actually, yes, sometimes," I shot right back without even thinking.

John just looked at me for a moment and I sat there, not knowing why I said what I said and wondering what kind of consequences I was in for. I really didn't know John very well, after all. "You've got a lot of nerve you know," said John. "But I think because of that _maybe _I'll learn to like you half as much as George does." Of course, his comment made me want to smack him, but at least he wasn't hostile; my mother had taught me very well not to trust too easily, and I still wasn't sure if I liked it or not.

"Oh—uh—sorry—thanks?" I stuttered.

"Ain't she just so adorably awkward too?" said John.

"I resent that," I said.

"Don't worry," said Paul. "John pushes buttons, it's not your fault you have a lot of them. Come on guys, we have to get going." Before I could come up with a clever retort, George ushered me out of my seat and away from John and Paul. I bent down to take my suitcase when George stopped me.

"That thing looks awful heavy," said George.

"It is, but I can manage," I said. "Where are your bags?"

"Brian picked all of our bags up," said George. "I have nothing to carry, and if people see me next to a pretty lady who's carrying a big heavy bag while I have nothing then I'll look like a right brutish man."

"But George, it's—" Before I could finish, George yanked my suitcase away from me with a soft wink. I rolled my eyes behind my glasses. To argue with George was like arguing with God himself. You'd never win. When we got outside we found Maureen and Jake by the taxies with Brian and Richard.

"Where's Alexander?" were the first stupid words out of my mouth.

"Mr. High and Mighty decided to take his own car," said Brian. "I must say, murderer or not, he's a pain in the ass."

"May be for better," said Maureen. "Oh well, not like I'd be on that flight anyway."

"You're not coming to Austria?" I asked, genuinely disappointed. There went the only other girl on the set I could spend time with.

"No, Ritchie and I decided that it would be best for me to go back to Liverpool for the time being since I have the baby," said Maureen. "Don't worry, you definitely haven't seen the last of me! When you get back to England to the studio I'll be there for that."

"Okay," I said, trying not to look too dumped. "But how's Jake gonna get his nose on right?"

"The guys know how," said Jake. "And…you could always help me again."

"Oh, I couldn't, I did a crappy job," I said, swatting my hand.

"Whatever you say," said Jake, smiling. I took the awkward silence that followed to slip closer to George, who still had my bag anyway.

"If it makes you feel better, Sandra, I'll be riding to the airport with everybody," said Maureen. "Although I'm not sure which taxi you'll be taking."

"I think Sandra can switch with Jake," said Richard. "Jake, how would you like to ride with Brian and I? We don't bite."

"Fine to me," said Jake, looking slightly dejected. He gave me a melancholy glance, and I stepped even closer to George. I felt his warmth even more as I got closer.

"Okay then, let's get going," said Brian. "We don't want to miss the flight, and we want to get there early before the crowds come and recognize you."

"Oh, it's bound to happen sometime anyway," said Ringo. "Come on Mo, let's get you in first."

"Okay, lady with a baby coming through," said Maureen as her husband helped her into the taxi. I got in next to her, and then the other four piled in. I saw Jake give some glances to out taxi as he went off with Richard and Brian.

"He's kind of cute you know," said Paul. I glared at him.

"Not as cute as you Paul," said George. "No one's cuter than the 'Cute Beatle'."

"Aw, shucks George," said Paul. "Stop, you're making me blush." The driver started up the taxi and we were off to the airport.

"So…have we heard anything else about Alexander, not to bring the mood down or anything?" I said.

"No, and damn well good too," said John. "I'm starting to think that we should just call the cops and give them a suspect for the murders."

"Yeah, why haven't we done that already?" asked Ringo. "I mean, it seems logical and all."

"Because we've been worried about keeping Jake safe," said George. "I personally think that putting Alexander away would make him safer though. What do you think Sandra?"

"Uh…" I said. "Well, yeah, it makes sense, but how are we going to report Alexander now? We're moving to another continent; if we were to report him, we should have done it here in The Bahamas…but yeah, we were a little too late."

"Oh well," said George.

"I really hope nothing else happens," said Maureen. "To tell you the truth, Alexander's gotten creepier since Jake's gotten here…do you think he suspects something?"

"It's possible," said Paul. "I mean, it's only costume makeup he's wearing…even if it looks pretty convincing. Just because Alexander's a jackass doesn't mean he's stupid."

"Just…do me a favor while I'm gone," said Maureen. "Don't let your lives revolve around this…well, unless Alexander gets really dangerous, but still. It's unhealthy."

"Now I'll tell you what's really uncomfortable," said John. "A knife in the belly."

"Oh, shut up John," said Maureen, trying not to laugh. The taxi drove on until we parked next to the other taxi in the parking garage of the airport.

"I can't believe I'm back here," I said, getting out of the taxi and attempting to pull my suitcase out of the trunk.

"Sandra, you really are nuts, aren't you?" asked George. "I admit I'm not capable of carrying two bags, but there are carts right over there." He nodded his head to the front of the garage where we were right by. Sure enough, there was a collection of carts big enough to carry everyone's bags right there.

"Ah…I see," I said. George smiled and actually brought his and my bags over to the carts and put them on. "Thanks," I muttered bashfully.

"It's no matter," said George. Everyone else took a hint and put their bags on the carts and we headed inside.

"You know where you're going, right Maureen?" asked Ringo.

"Yes Ritchie, I'm a big girl, I have my ticket and everything," said Maureen. "I'll be fine, don't you worry."

"Sometimes I do," said Ringo, looking into his wife's eyes. John mocked throwing up while Paul and Brian elbowed him.

Maureen rolled her eyes. "I can walk with you to the gate Ritchie, but after that, I've gotta go back home," she said.

"Alright love," said Ringo. "I know, it was my idea anyway." He laughed.

"I don't know if I can handle more planes," I said as we walked through bag-checking.

"I've never been on one, if it makes you feel better," said Jake. "Maybe we can sit next to each other."

"Oh…well…" I tried to say.

"We actually had some things to discuss about the film," said George, sneaking up next to me and putting an arm around me. My face grew red and hot and my heart rate sped to God-knows-what speed. "We need to sit together so we can talk."

"Oh…" said Jake, looking out down. "Well, okay, if you need to."

"S—sorry Jake, next time, okay?" I said, already cursing myself for making that promise.

"I'll have to hold you to that," said Jake, smiling, looking a little happier.

"Right," I said. As soon as we were far enough away from Jake, I whispered, "Thanks George."

"No problem," said George. "I could tell you didn't want to sit next to him anyway. Just doing you a favor."

"I'm glad," I said with a smile."

"Okay everybody, go to the gate and stay there until the private plane comes as not to be discovered," said Brian.

"I'll see all of you later," said Maureen. "I'll write, I promise!"

"You better," I said, hugging Maureen goodbye. "Now I have two people to worry about writing to! It was nice to meet you, Maureen."

"And likewise, Sandra," said Maureen. She went over to Ringo. "It was so nice to be able to spend this time with you dear, it's been so hard ever since you've gotten famous—not that I mind at all."

"I sure hope you don't!" said Ringo. "I'll see you in a couple months love." He embraced her and kissed her a tender goodbye. When they let go, Maureen gave everyone a bright smile.

"I'll see all of you very soon!" she called as she rushed off to her gate. "Don't forget me now!"

"Oh, that's impossible!" called Paul. "See you later Mo!" She gave once last wave before she disappeared into the crowd.

"You know she'll be back soon enough one way or another," said Ringo. "That woman never forgets to write. I made a good choice!"

"Boy did you," said John. "She can cook too."

"Okay boys, and Sandra, let's wait for the plane," said Richard. "And as to not surprise anybody, Alexander will be arriving here shortly."

"Oh, perfect," said Jake. "Just…make sure he doesn't have to sit by me."

"I'll take care of that," said Richard. "Don't you worry."

"I'll try not to," said Jake.

"I hope Austria's gonna be happier than The Bahamas," I said. "I don't think I can take any more of a murder mystery than we already have."

"Tell me about it," said Jake. "I won't be happy until he's in jail."

"And who's he?" asked a cold voice. We all wheeled around to see Alexander.

"Oh…uh…just some guy who mugged my dad back home," said Jake quickly, averting his eyes.

"I see," said Alexander. He gave Jake one last sour look and went to sit farther away.

"Hey, lucky break," said George.

"I'd say just that," I said. This had better not get out of hand again…but then again, how could it get more out of hand? I just hoped Austria would be the perfect amount of a change of scenery we all needed to get passed this dark cloud above us.


	10. Chapter 10

The flight wasn't as bad as the last couple I'd been on, probably because the pilot knew what he was doing and Brian had stopped the boys from lighting up all the way to Austria. Needless to say, I was thankful for that. "Okay everybody, grab your winter clothes from your suitcases once we get them back," said Brian once we were in the terminal. "It's going to be freezing out there and you need to make sure that you're bundled up just right."

"Oh, I'll bundle _you _up!" said John, shaking his fist at his manager.

"And what is _that _supposed to mean?" asked Brian.

John shrugged. "No idea," he said. Brian chose to ignore that remark, smartly, and turned back to the rest of the group.

"Mr. Epstein, won't you teach your…children…to watch their mouths and not talk back?" asked Alexander coolly. "It's not very becoming of either of you."

"The last time I checked, _Alexander_," Brian shot back, just as icily. "These boys are not my children, and I cannot control them to that extent. If you have any complaints about how these boys act, I suggest you talk to their _own _parents, but seeing as you have no way of contacting them, I think you should keep your mouth _shut." _

"_Well," _huffed Alexander.

"Come on everybody," said Brian. "Winter clothes, quickly." We all headed over to get our bags from the return. Once we had all of them, we had to take everything apart again. I was upset because I had made sure everything was perfect before takeoff…twice.

"I hate the cold," I said as I sorted out a jacket, scarf, boots, and a hat, among many other cold weather items. "My blood already feels like it's frozen into a slushy."

"Well, the lads and I are from Liverpool, we're used to it," said George. "It was a wonder we were complaining about it being cold in The Bahamas."

"I think you guys already went through this," I said. "Wasn't it because it was a beach?"

"Oh, yeah, I remember now," said George. "Then again, beaches in Liverpool are cold too."

I laughed and bundled up with everybody else. "Come on George, help me get this thing on the cart."

"I'd be much obliged, young lady," said George. I smiled wider; George was cute that way. He lifted my bag up and I saw muscles ripple in his arms. I did everything in my power to keep from swooning, but John must have seen some sort of look on my face because he waggled his eyebrows goofily. I shrugged it off and turned back to George who had finished piling the bags on the cart.

"Thanks," I said.

"No problem," said George. Jake rolled his eyes and looked away.

"Okay everybody, time to get into the cars outside," said Brian. "Quickly now, so you're not spotted."

"Roger that!" said John. Brian gave him yet another scolding look as we walked out. This time, the van was large enough to hold everyone, but unfortunately, that meant Alexander had to ride over with us as well. I tried my best to make sure there was at least one person between him and Jake…also very unfortunate, that person ended up being me. Being stuck between a horrible old man and a lovestruck teenage boy was not really somewhere I wanted to be.

"Man, look at all the snow!" exclaimed Jake, looking out the window with wonder. "I've lived in Florida all my life before I moved to The Bahamas, I've never seen it before!" He was right; there were blankets and pillows of white, fluffy snow spread all around the roads and sidewalks. March in Austria was still very much in winter. I couldn't want to see the mountains!

"The wonder will wear off shortly," drawled Alexander. "It will become…how do you young people say it…a drag."

"I think _you're _a drag," said George to Alexander. "Stop being such a downer." I was surprised to hear George actually stand up to Jake, who he seemed to resent, and I was also very happy to see the appalled look on Alexander's face.

"Play nice back there," said Brian from the front. "We're all professionals in here, so act like it."

"Except for Jake," said George, going back to the attitude I was used to him having toward Jake.

"Shut up man," Jake sneered. I wondered why George bothered to stick up for Jake in the first place. Probably just to spite Alexander.

"_Behave," _said Brian. Neither George nor Jake made any other snide comments to one another.

"So are we there yet?" asked John. "I've gotta take a pit stop!"

"Oh John, for Christ's sake!" said Brian. "I'm s_ure _you can hold it!"

"But what if I can't?" whined John. I couldn't tell if he was serious or just being a pain in the ass again.

"John, you're a big boy, you can," I said. "Just shut up so we can all enjoy the ride."

"Oooohhh," Paul droned, laughing.

"Shut it," I said. Paul shut up at that, but was still snickering a bit.

"Someone's a little grumpy," said John. "What got in your panties this morning?"

"Not George, apparently," said Paul."

"Leave them alone, will ya?" said Ringo as George and I glared at Paul. "Seriously, you two need to stop acting like children, it's not becoming."

"One of them's right, look at that," said Alexander.

"No offence anyone, but I think I'll take that back," said Ringo, frowning.

"None taken," said George. "But I would like to tell John that being silly and immature when you're also a father is highly irresponsible."

"What?" I said, surprised. "John's a _father?" _

"Yeah, and a husband," said George. "How'd you reckon that one out?"

"Ah, shove off George," said John. "As far as now, you're the only one of us who's single!"

"At least that could always change," said George.

"Well good luck then," said Paul with a wink. These guys sure did wink a lot.

"Okay boys, and Sandra, we're here," said Richard. The car had parked in the snow out in front of a nice-sized wooden hut. "They couldn't get us a hotel close enough to the set, so this was what we got."

"Oh, it's so cute!" I squealed. I climbed over everybody in my way and leapt out of the car. "It's a cottage in the mountains! I can't believe it!"

"Keep your knickers on Sandra," said John as he and everybody else climbed out of the car.

"Please don't start those jokes again," I said flatly.

"Sorry," said John. "But it is very nice here."

"Yes, I have to agree," said Brian. "Now, there's rooming issues to be dealt with. Listen up everybody—there are three separate suites in this cottage, which is really more than we need for just us. The other cast and crew are taking the other cottage on the sight; this one is ours. Since there are only three suites, however, we decided that the boys should share a room, obviously—"

"Excuse me ma'am, but if you're going to pass through here, I'm going to need to see some certification!" Alexander snapped, cutting Brian off.

"What? Are you serious? Don't you know who I _am?" _replied an extremely frustrated, English-accented female voice. I (well, everyone, really) turned around to see Alexander a few feet away from the cottage trying to hold off a young woman of about my age. Her pale face was etched into a frown and her blue eyes flashed at the man not letting her through. Her hair was long and the brightest kind of red I'd ever seen that seemed to flicker with fire at her anger at Alexander with bangs across her forehead.

"Yes, I do, you're one of those bloody fangirls!" said Alexander. "And you are going to leave right now before I call the authorities!"

"Are you _crazy?" _the girl shrieked. "My name is Jane Asher, famous actress and Paul McCartney's girlfriend! You're mad, you are! Haven't you seen me on television?"

"No, and I must say I'm perfectly glad!" said Alexander. "Now, fangirl, Jane, whoever you are, I will tell you once more to leave these premises before—"

"Jane!" called Paul. He rushed up to where Alexander was blocking her.

"Excuse me, but do you know this—this—tart?" asked Alexander, fuming.

"Yes, of course he does, you wanker, I'm his bloody girlfriend, remember!" Jane shrieked again, her eyes flashing again.

"Is this true Mr. McCartney?" asked Alexander.

"Well yeah, it is," said Paul. "I mean, she's told you, hasn't she? Because it seems to me she has."

"Yes I did, a thousand times!" said Jane. "Are you going to let me go now?"

"How can I be sure you are who you say you are?" asked Alexander.

"Oh, for the love of God!" yelled Jane again.

"Alexander, let her in," said Brian. "Miss Asher couldn't hurt a fly and she is supposed to be here now, if you got the memo, which I see now that you haven't."

"But—" said Alexander.

"Alexander, do you really think that Brian Epstein of all people would let someone into the set that would cause us danger?" said Paul. I flinched a little at that comment, and so did Jake. We were obviously thinking the same thing. "Jane is my girlfriend, and she's telling the truth, and yes, she was scheduled before to be there, so lay off!"

"Fine," said Alexander. "You can come in."

"Bout time," said Jane. "Sorry about all of that, boys."

"Not a problem," said George. "It's good to see you again."

"Good to see me too," said Jane. Her gaze rested on me. "Oh! You must be Sandra the photographer! I've heard loads about you already!"

"Alright McCartney, what did you tell her?" I said.

"Nothing we didn't already know," said Paul.

"I won't even ask," I said.

"Okay. So if I can get back to what I was _trying _to say before I was interrupted," said Brian, shooting a rather rude look at Alexander. "There are three rooms in the cottage we'll be staying in. I've decided that the boys—not including J—uh—Donny, mind you, will be sharing a room. Richard, Alexander, and I will also be sharing one. Jane, Sandra, and Donny will have the other." I thought a felt a huge thud on my head at the mention of Jake and I sharing a room. I was thankful for Jane being there too. I saw Jake glance at me fleetingly and I felt sick.

"I heard you had Maureen stay with the boys back in The Bahamas," said Jane. "Why can't I? Not that I don't like you Sandra, sorry if it came out like that."

"Oh—uh—it's okay," I said, wondering how I would deal with Jane's seemingly high-strung personality.

"Because, Jane, Maureen is Ringo's wife who is also carrying his baby," said Brian. "You and Paul are only dating, and we can't risk any scandals while we're here. Believe me, if I had it my way, I'd have Donny with the boys, but there's not enough space in that room for five people."

Jane frowned. "Alright, I guess."

"It's okay Jane," Paul whispered to his put-off girlfriend. "In between scenes." He winked and Jane giggled softly.

"Let's get inside," I said quickly. "It's freezing."

"Let me help you Sandra," said Jake, rushing over to me. "We're going to the same room, so I can get your bags." Before George could say a word, because he looked like he was on his way over to save me anyway, Jake snatched my bags and was off.

"Thanks…Donny," I muttered, plodding through the snow after him.

"You know, I think he may like you," said Jane as she caught up to me. I just sighed and walked on. "But I can tell you don't."

"Yeah, you'd think that, wouldn't you?" I said, seething with sarcasm. Jane and I met up with Jake in our room. It was a pretty place, with a fireplace, wooden floors with rugs, a window with curtains to put down for privacy, large mirror by the dresser and an adjoining bathroom…but there was one problem…there were three of us, but only two beds.

"Well now…" said Jane, contemplating. "Who's sharing?"

"Well, you've got a boyfriend, right?" asked Jake to Jane.

"Yes, I do," said Jane.

"Well, I guess either of us would feel silly about sharing a bed with you," said Jake. Oh no…here it comes… "Say Sandra, how about it?"

"Oh, well, I couldn't, you know, you deserve a full bed, I can sleep on the couch," I said, flustered.

"Nonsense Sandra, you'll freeze!" said Jake. "Even with covers, do you know how cold it is out there?"

"If it won't be too weird Donny—that's your name, isn't it? But yes, if it won't be too weird, you could share with me," said Jane. "Paul would know to trust me."

"No, I wouldn't feel right!" said Jake. "And yes…that's my name…Donny…"

Jane looked at me and shrugged. "Look, J—uh—Donny, I'll just sleep on the couch, I'll be fine," I said. I wondered how bad it would be to tell Jane who Jake really was. I'd leave it be for now.

"Are you sure Sandra?" asked Jake, looking hurt. I admit, it was hard for me to face him like that; although I never wanted anything to do with Jake on a romantic level, I still liked him well enough.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said. "Have the whole bed, it's fine."

"Okay," said Jake. He went into the bathroom.

"I would have offered you and I share a bed you know," said Jane once Jake was gone. "But you were telling Donny you didn't want to share because you wanted to have your own space instead of the truth, which was that you just didn't really want to share with him, so I couldn't offer. But I would have though."

"It's fine," I said. "Thanks for the thought."

"It's no problem," said Jane. "I can tell he likes you, but from what I've heard from Paul, it seems George has taken a shine to you as well!"

"I'm not too sure about that," I said, smiling bashfully.

"Oh, come on," said Jane. "Well, we'll see what happens then." Jake came back out of the bathroom.

"I think we should start getting ready for bed," I said. "It's getting late."

"Oh, yeah," said Jake, still sounding a little put down. "You still sure about the couch?"

"Quite sure," I said. I went off to change into my pajamas and came back to find the sheets already spread out on the couch.

"I thought you'd want some help," said Jake sheepishly.

"Thanks," I said, not knowing what to think. The three of us climbed into our respective sleeping areas. "Well, goodnight everybody."

"Goodnight, Sandra," said Jane. "We'll get to know each other more tomorrow! I'm sure it'll be just grand."

"Yeah," I said. I turned over to Jake, but he was facing away, either asleep already or faking it pretty hard. I felt a little bad for him, but oh well. My eyes, which were already very heavy, closed and I was fast asleep. The room was very quiet for where three people were staying. About as quickly as my eyes had shut, however, they were open again and morning shown through the curtains. I sat up to see Jane and Jake doing the same thing. But before any of us had a chance to say as much as a "Good morning" to anyone, Richard and Brian had swiftly burst through our door looking distraught and frantic.

"What's wrong guys?" I asked sleepily.

"There's been another report of a murder," said Brian, flashing a newspaper. "A local rock and roll band…here…in Austria, not too far off."

"Wait…a_nother _murder?" asked Jane. "Why? What's going on? Was there another somewhere before?"

"Jake, I think you better explain to Jane, we can trust her," said Richard.

"_Jake?" _asked Jane. "I thought he was Donny? What the hell is going on here?"

"All will be explained Jane," said Richard. "Right now we have to be calm."

"Where's Alexander?" asked Jake.

"We don't know," said Brian bitterly. There was silence in the room, the loudest silence I'd ever heard. More killings…what would be next?


	11. Chapter 11

"So? Do any of you care to explain what the devil is going on here? I don't think I signed up for this," said Jane once everyone, Beatles, Richard, Brian, Jake, and I, were moved into one room. Alexander was still missing since last night.

"Just relax Jane, you're safe," said Paul.

"Well…" started a very nervous Brian. "What we have here is a murderous producer, to shorten the story."

"Was it that man who was trying to keep me off the set?" asked Jane.

"Yeah," I said. "He's quite easy to pin out."

"So Brian, do you believe me _now _that it was Alexander all along?" asked Jake. "Cause it sounds like you do!"

"Yes Jake, I believe you now, happy?" said Brian. "There's actually proof now…let's just hope he has no alibi…but still, it's more suspicious."

"I thought his name was Donny!" said Jane. "Please someone enlighten me?"

"His name's Jake," I said. "And he's disguised and has his name changed to protect him from Alexander."

"But why?" asked Jane, clutching Paul, frightened and confused.

"Well, you see," said Ringo. "There's a long story, and a shorter story…I'll just give you the shorter story for now—back in The Bahamas, Alexander followed Jake home and shot up his whole band who was over for rehearsal that night."

"Yeah, he tried to kill Jake too, but he ran off," said George. "And by chance he ended up here with us."

"But why are you here if Alexander or whatever is right here?" asked Jane, finally addressing Jake. "Isn't that a bit dangerous?"

"I'm too afraid to go home," said Jake. "He can find me there…and I'm not ready to go back there anyway, not after what happened there…plus he'd never suspect that I'm here, I've got all kinds of makeup and stuff on; he'll never find me."

"Well there's that…" said a mortified Jane. "And…now you're telling me he's killed again?"

"Yeah, freaky, isn't it?" said John.

"Well, I suspect it's a little more than freaky, John Lennon!" said Jane.

"Just…calm, everyone," said Richard. "And don't have a fit when Alexander comes back.

"But why?" asked Jane. "Why don't we book him? He deserves it!"

"We don't have enough proof yet," I said. "And we can't interrupt the filming…I know it sounds stupid, but it's the stupid way the situation has to work. Trust me, if I had it my way he'd be put away by now."

"Oh…well, I guess you're right," said Jane. "I act, I know how this works, when you're on a tight schedule, you've got to stick to it no matter what. It's a drag, I know, but still."

"Just hole your ground when he comes back," said Richard. "And don't forget to call Jake 'Donny'—it's very important that you don't expose anything."

"Alright," said Jane.

"Now that we've got all of that out of the way," said Richard. "Why don't we meet the rest of the cast and crew to start filming? We're skiing today, boys!"

"Yeah, and by 'we' you mean 'us'," said John. "We don't know how to ski!"

"It'll be fun to learn," said Richard. "Come on, I think you all should do some stretches before you get out there. We don't want any pulled muscles."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Paul. "You think we're gonna be no good at it, eh?"

"Well honey, you've never done it before…" said Jane. "Skiing is pretty tough."

"I can do anything," said Paul.

"Keep telling yourself that Paul," said George. "Last I heard you couldn't even play bass!"

"Come on George, last time I checked, you were out guitar player!" said Paul.

"Yeah, and a pretty damn good one at that," said George, not missing a beat.

"Okay, let's get outside," said Brian. "You all have all of your jackets and everything on?"

"Sir yes sir!" said John, doing his now infamous mock-salute. "So can we go now, Eppy? I'm starting to get restless and stir-crazy, I know you don't like me when I'm like that at all sir Mr. Brian Epstein Eppy sir!"

Brian sighed. "Come on everybody," he said. The boys, Jake, Jane, and I followed him and Richard out into the snow. Although I had my jacket, knit hat, scarf, gloves, boots, and everything else a cold-hating person could possibly wear, as soon as the freezing Austria mountain air hit my face, I froze and started to shiver feverishly.

"You okay Sandra?" asked George, half anxious, half amused.

"F—freezing," I said.

"Yeah, it's cold here," said George. "Come on, a little running around will warm you up a bit."

"I think my limbs are icing over already George," I said.

"Rubbish, come on then!" said George. He grabbed me by the arm and proceeded to drag me through the snow. He was trying to run with me, but my legs just weren't having it, no siree.

"George, I really think I need to go inside by the fire with a cup of hot coco," I said as he brought me over to the set where all of the other cast and crew were set up.

"And miss out on seeing the four of us make fools out of ourselves on skis?" asked George. "Once again, rubbish. And you have a job to do anyway Miss Photographer."

"Touché," I said. "Well then, I'll have to wait till after all of this then—it better be worth it."

"Oh, trust me, with Ringo on skis, it will," said George.

"I heard that George!" called Ringo, coming over holding his skis. "Oh, by the way, Alexander's back…he got these for us to wear from the costume trailer…don't worry, I brought them to Brian and Richard first, they're not dangerous." Ringo pulled a huge top hat from behind his back and shoved it onto George's head. "Hey, it suits you!"

"Why thank you Ringo," said George. "I'll have you know that I am a rather classy fellow. What do you think, Sandra?"

"I—I think it looks great, George," I said. "Wait, hold still!" I took my camera out of my bag around my shoulder and snapped a picture of George in his hat. "Perfect! I'll show it to you right away when it's developed."

"I can't wait to see it," said George. "Well, now that you're good and warmed up—not temperature-wise, obviously—me and the lads can go over to start skiing now for you to take more photos of." He walked off with Ringo to join John and Paul on the other side. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Alexander walking around the set as if nothing had happened the night before…that bastard. He was reading a newspaper…the same newspaper that Brian and Richard had come into my room brandishing. I bet Alexander loved reading about his fiendish work.

"Makes me sick," said Jane who had just approached me.

"Yeah, me too," I said. "Where's Jake?"

"Back in the room," said Jane. "Hearing that Alexander killed again, or supposedly killed again, he didn't want to be around him. Can't say I blame him. He said he yanked you into the linin closet when he first got on the run."

"Yeah, he did," I said. "And it may be a good idea for him to stay in…at least he doesn't have to freeze his ass off like the rest of us."

"I for one love it out here," said Jane. "But that's me. You look very uncomfortable."

"Very," I said, starting to shiver again. "But a professional doesn't complain…I have a job to do."

"That's the idea," said Jane. "Paul tells me you're something of a career-oriented young lady. Keep to that, but don't let it stuff you up. Have some fun while you're at it!"

"I plan to have fun," I said. I watched the boys go up to the top of the mountain on the ski lift. I readied my camera and took some shots of them going up. Once they were on top of the mountain and off the ski lift, the cameraman called "Action!" and that was the boys' cue to rocket down the snowy mountain on their skis. It was extremely funny to watch, actually. It became very clear to me that those boys had never been on a pair of skis in their lives. Actually, there was a lot more falling than actual skiing. I had to hold my camera steady from my laughter as I shot the photos. During the shoot, I found out sooner or later, there weren't just skis…there was a horse that Paul somehow was able to ride easier than the skis and a sleigh. And of course, random goofing off. It was totally unscripted, and I loved it.

"Alright boys, go over to the picnic blanket and fool around there," said Richard.

"What about the stuff over by the piano?" asked Paul.

"Once we have the timing for the song right, then we'll film that stuff," said Richard.

"Right then," said Paul. Him and the other three Beatles went over for the last filming segment of the day, which was doing whatever the hell they wanted to do at a picnic blanket. Once they were settled, the cameraman yelled "Action!" once again and they took turns eating whatever food they could find there, passing things around, joking, talking, and someone, possibly Ringo, opened an exploding champagne bottle. I made sure to get a good shot of that; actually, that photo may not even make it into the media—that would be one of my personal ones!

"Man Ringo, you got that champagne all over the place!" said John once the cameras (except mine…what, I needed good shots!) were off. "Anyone ever teach you to open a bottle mate?"

"Maureen," said Ringo. "I was never very good at it…I'm not a fast learner, don't blame me."

"And what, blame your wife for your faults?" asked John. "Bloody hell Ringo, that's rather mean!"

"Well, that came out wrong then," said Ringo. "And I'd never blame _your _wife for your faults; she's much too sweet for that!"

"Yeah, you're right," said John, shrugging. "I'm still never gonna let you live this down though."

"Oh, you will one day," said Ringo.

"That looked like so much fun guys!" said Jane. "Paul, you looked fantastic on that horse."

"Oh, why thank you, love," said Paul. He embraced Jane and kissed her. I caught myself looking at George at that moment.

"So, you still cold?" he asked.

"Uh…yeah, pretty freezing," I said.

"Well, we're done here," said George. "Come on, let's go back to the cabin." He flourished the short little cape he wore for the scene and I laughed.

"Alright Sir George, I'll come with you," I said. George held his arm out like a silly little gentleman and I took it. He tipped his top hat with his free hand and brought me off back to the cabin. Of course as we left, there were very loud assorted catcalls erupting from the other boys, mostly John, and a loud, "Oh, shut _up _will you and leave them alone!" from Jane.

"Don't mind them," said George. "By now I'm sure you know they're a bunch of idiots."

"But they're _your _idiots, aren't they?" I asked.

"Sadly, you're right," said George with a lopsided grin. After a couple more minutes walking and joking, we were back at the cottage. "Come on in to my humble abode—at least for the next few days or so," said George, holding the door to The Beatles' room open. "We'll have the place to ourselves for a little while; they're going out."

"Oh, cool," I said. As I walked in I felt a little shaky…why was I so nervous? I'd been alone in a room with George before; I've even sat on a bed with him and nothing happened! Maybe it was the fact that he told me we'd be alone for a while…was he planning something? Oh dear God let him not be planning something…but why was I thinking _that? _My mind was in a million pieces and places.

"You okay, Sandra?" asked George as he sat down on a bed, his, I took it to be.

"I'm fine," I said. "Just still a little chilly."

"I'll start the fire then," said George. He stood up, shed his top hat and cape, and kneeled down in front of the fireplace. "I'm gonna have to give these things back to costumes sooner or later," he said as he started the fire up. Soon enough, there was a roaring fire that warmed the room ever so nicely as it flickered. George got back up and sat back down on the bed. "You can sit down you know," he said again, looking up at me with those dark, dark eyes.

"Oh, yeah," I said, laughing and rolling my eyes up. I must look so clunky and dorky in all of my winter clothes and glasses right about now.

"Are you feeling alright?" asked George. "You seem a little jumpy."

"I'm just getting a little warm now," I said. "I'm still in all of my winter clothes and the fire's going…"

"Well, that's easy then, just take your jacket off," said George. Oh my…I was taking of clothes now…it was starting…oh, come on, I was just overreacting. I slowly slid my jacket off, along with my gloves and hat. "Is that better?" George asked.

"Yeah," I said, trying not to breathe too fast. "I think I have hat-hair, but I feel better."

"You don't look so bad," said George, staring directly into my eyes. Well, through my thick glasses anyway. "How well can you see without those?"

"Oh, my glasses?" I asked. "Not too badly, I mean, a little blurry, but I can see…I'm nearsighted, so as long as nothing's far…"

"Well, I'm close to you now," said George. "So if they were taken off, it would be no problem, would it?"

"Uh…" I said, my breath catching in my throat. "No not at all, knock yourself out!"

George smiled and slid my glasses off, placing them on the nightstand. The room instantly blurred up a little, but George's face so close to mine was pretty clear. "Well?" he asked. "How can you see?"

"Not too badly," I said.

"You know you're beautiful, right Sandra?" asked George after a brief moment of silence.

"You mean…without my glasses, right?" I asked, my heart speeding up second by second.

"No, I mean all the time," said George. Oh dear…what was going to happen? Was I happy? Scared? Confused? Okay, definitely confused. "You have a very pretty mouth."

"Uh…thanks?' I said, pursing my lips in self-consciousness.

"Surely someone's told you this before," said George.

"Well…yeah…I mean, I've had boyfriends and such," I said. "Just…not for a while and you're—you're George Harrison! I mean, any girl would die to hear you call them beautiful."

"But I wouldn't necessarily mean it with them, you know," said George. "With you…I'd be a monster not to mean it."

"George, I—" I started to say, but George cut me off with a soft finger to my lips.

"Don't say anything," he said softly. "I just want to look at you, Sandra Cohen." I couldn't say anything at that point, not because George had told me not to, but because I was so transfixed in his eyes, still after many moments still gazing intently into mine. I felt the warmth of his breath on my skin; it was warmer and more burning than the fire that I had forgotten about soon after it had been lit. My body was shaking and I felt goosebumps, despite the growing warmth of the room.

"I'm afraid I have fallen in love with you," George finally said, taking his hand and cupping the side of my face with it.

"Oh…oh, George," was all I could bring myself to say. I really didn't know what I was feeling at this point…it became clear to me that I did have a bit of a crush on George, but did I love him? I had no idea. I had been in love before, but it was always a blurry line for me between love and a huge crush. I supposed there was really only one way to find out.

I surrendered myself to George's touch as he pulled me in closer, very slowly. I reached my arms out and embraced him as I never thought I would. His hand traveled from my face to be entangled in my hair as his face got close to mine. Before I knew it, I felt his soft, sweet lips on mine, kissing me. The kiss was tender and loving, and though I tensed up at first, I eased into it, letting go and enjoying the moment. My eyes closed and I relaxed, no longer tense as I was before.

George kissed more and more, driving the intensity further and further, lowering me onto the bed. I was leery of this, but I let him. If something happened that I didn't want I knew I'd be out of there faster than you could say, "But I have a condom!" George's lips soon left my mouth and proceeded to kiss my neck, my ears, the pit of my throat. I let out a few gasps of pleasure as he caressed me with his mouth. I raked my fingers through his thick hair and trembled. I was in heaven; it was the best I'd ever felt. My parents never let me get this far with any of my boyfriends if they had anything to say about it. George's hands moved upward to my blazer and unbuttoned it, and then he went for my shirt. Lightning struck me there—in a not-so-good way. It was then, as George was working on the buttons of my shirt that I realized I was a virgin…a nervous, anxious, and freaked-out virgin.

I shot up, scaring George a bit, but I didn't notice right away. "Is there something wrong Sandra?" George asked.

"Oh, well—no—not really," I said, frantically buttoning my shirt back up and slipping my blazer back on. "It's just…I've never...uh…gotten this far in…well, anything, and—"

"Oh!" said George, looking surprised and embarrassed. "Oh God—I'm so sorry, I didn't know—"

"No, it's my fault, I let it escalate," I said. I sat on the corner of the bed, unable to look at George. "I—uh—I should be getting back to my room…sorry…"

"Oh, it's okay," said George, still looking mortified. "I'll—I'll just walk you there then."

"Yeah—yeah, thanks," I said, aware that I was sweating like a pig by now. George and I got up from his room and he walked me over to mine just down the hall. "Thanks," I said as I opened my door.

"No problem Sandra," said George. We both nodded awkwardly at each other and he left. I closed the door behind me and walked in to see only Jake still there. He didn't say anything…I saw the look in his sad blue eyes. Yep, it was true what they all say…every guy knows when a girl has been doing something. All I could do was grin sheepishly at Jake, who didn't return the favor, but instead turned around in his bed. What in the hell had I gotten myself into?


	12. Chapter 12

The next morning I woke up to see Jane sneaking in breakfast pastries through the door. "Oh! Sandra, you're awake," she said when she saw me. "I got some of these from Paul's room, are you hungry?"

"Yeah, that sounds good," I said, sitting up. I looked around and didn't see Jake anywhere. "Have you seen Jake?"

"He left earlier, when I got up to get the food," said Jane, setting the plate down on the island. "He's been looking pretty bummed out since last night."

"Has—has he said why?" I asked. Oh, boy did I have a feeling or two why he was upset.

Jane shook her head, causing her bright red hair to move about her face. "Nope, not a word," she said. "Although I have a guess or two."

I got out of bed and reached for a muffin. "What are those?" I asked, trying not to sound like the nervous wreck I was feeling like.

"Oh, well that one you have there is a blueberry, and the other one—oh, wait, silly me, you mean my guesses, not the muffins, right?" said Jane. I nodded and waited for whatever Jane had to say. "Well, according to you going off with George yesterday after the filming was over, I'd say that maybe…something happened, if you catch my drift." She finished with a wink of her blue eye.

"Ah…" I said. Yep, she nipped it right in the bud. I felt my face turn bright red, so even if I wanted to lie and deny it, it wouldn't work anyhow.

Jane grinned ear to ear and her eyes got wide. "Oh my God, you _did!" _she exclaimed. "Well, how did it go, what did you do?"

"Well…we kissed…" I said bashfully, not really wanting to reveal what almost actually happened.

"Well?" asked Jane suspiciously. "Is that it?"

"Yeah," I said quickly. "Pretty much, yeah."

"Come on Sandra, don't lie to me," said Jane. Oh no…she could tell…how could she tell?

"I—I'm not lying Jane, I promise!" I said. Wow, sorry way around it, Sandra. Just keep going like that and you'll be out of this on no time, go ahead.

"Oh, come _on _Sandra," said Jane. "You don't have to be embarrassed you know; everybody does it!"

"D—does what?" I asked.

"Sandra, you know!" said Jane. "You have to know what 'it' is! Unless…oh, goodness, Sandra, are you a _virgin?" _Jane looked at me in a sort of wonder that a little girl would look at a unicorn, if they even existed. It wasn't disgust of contempt…it was amusement and somehow enjoyment.

"Does…does it matter?" I asked, now at the top of my embarrassment.

"No, not at all, I just wasn't expecting it," said Jane. "After all, I was a virgin when I met Paul…no one believed it, but it was true. I suppose I shouldn't make a huge deal out of you. So, does he know?"

"I kind of freaked out when he started going under my shirt, so yeah, he does know," I said, looking down.

"Oh…well yes, that will happen," said Jane, flinching. "Oh well, George is a nice guy, the aftershock will go away in a day or two. He won't tell or brag either, you have nothing to worry about."

"Good to know," I said. I really didn't want to talk about that subject any further. "So…Jake just kind of ran off?"

"Yeah," said Jane. "But he's fine, I think he's hanging around with the boys."

"I hope him and George are…okay," I said, not thinking about plunging myself back into that whole subject again. "I mean—you know how guys can get, I mean, come on!"

"Yes, I do," said Jane. "The jealousy a man can feel hath nothing on a woman's, however."

"You can say that again," I said. I remembered when Martha's boyfriend cheated on her last year…it wasn't very pretty. "So…are they starting soon?"

"Yes, we may want to get out there now," said Jane. "Let's get dressed and out there! Oh, and good luck with George, in advance." She winked at me again and went off to dress. I took that time to layer on all of my winter finery, which always took a very long time. Damn my intolerance to the cold weather. I was adjusting my jacket zipper when Jane came out all bundled up as well.

"Let me just get my camera…" I said, reaching out as far as I could in my "armor." I managed to snatch my camera up and hang it around my neck, adding yet more weight to what I already had on.

"Oh, Sandra, it's not all that bad out there," said Jane. "Come on, let's get going." I followed Jane out into the frozen wasteland that were the Austrian Alps and over to the set. We got there to see the usual cast and crew spread all around, along with John, Paul, and Ringo giving me some of the smuggest looks I had ever seen, George looking like a guilty child, and Jake looking like the most wronged young man in the world. This was going to be a fun day…I smiled sheepishly and went to mess around with my camera when out of the corner of my eye I saw John headed over to me with a sneaky smile of a five-year-old.

"So," he said with that silly grin even in his voice. "Did ya do it?"

"Shut _up _John," I said through gritted teeth.

"It's okay, I know you didn't," said John. "George told us, but don't worry, it won't get around."

"It had better not or you all are going to get a beating," I said, putting a fresh roll of film in my camera.

"Oooh, I'm frightened!" said John.

I shot him a very nasty look. "You should be," I said menacingly.

"That's cute," said John. "Okay Sandy, get ready to take some pretty pictures!" I kicked some snow at him and he walked off. John had a nasty way of making me dislike him again right after I had started to warm up to him. But, as Maureen had said, he was a pain, even to someone who'd known him for years. I kicked a little more snow into the air and went over to the set. I was careful not to make eye contact with anyone; I could only hope that Brian and Richard didn't know, or else I'd have no one but Jane to feel comfortable around.

I walked around to the other side of the boys and took a practice shot of the snowy mountains with my camera. "Something wrong Sandra?" asked Brian, who had walked up to me. "You're looking distant."

"Oh," I said, looking up from the lens. "I'm fine, I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Well, be sure to from now on," said Brian. "Are you sure nothing's bothering you?"

"Quite sure," I said. "Don't worry about me, I'll wake up." Brian nodded and went over to talk to the boys. I was standing alone then; Richard was speaking to the other crew, and the rest of the cast were strewn about the set, talking to each other and reading scripts. I brought myself to glance over at George, whom Brian was talking directly to, but not about what had happened last night; I could tell. Brian would be going batshit crazy if it were that. George's head turned a bit, and suddenly he was looking at me too. He smiled crookedly and waved a bit and I did the same. Then we both blushed and looked swiftly away.

I looked down at my feet and pushed some snow around with the toe of my boot, drawing little designs and stomping around a little. Why was this so hard to deal with? Was I _that _much of a prude? Damn my parents and their brainwashing ways…I had to break out of it sooner or later.

The filming was a little more awkward today—although I had to by obligation get pictures of all four Beatles in these shoots, I found it hard to get good shots of George because of my embarrassment. It went slower than usual, and wasn't nearly as fun as yesterday's shooting. It was on a curling court; the man scientists were supposed to be giving them an exploding curling brick or whatever those things were called in this scene. The only thing that could make me laugh this morning was George's comic shout of his line, "It's a thingy—a fiendish thingy!" Of course, no matter how much embarrassment I suffered on his part, he could s_till _make me laugh.

"Okay boys, that's a wrap," said Richard. "We're gonna redo that tomorrow."

"And I should agree," said Alexander. "Lackluster—all of it. Tell me again why people think rock and rollers can be actors?"

"Because they can," said Ringo. "Honestly, I don't know who you are to judge; why haven't I seen _you _act before?"

"You watch your mouth Mr. Starr or you're going to be involved in some very big trouble," Alexander growled, grabbing Ringo by his shirt collar. Jake tried to break them apart, but Paul yanked him back.

"Is that a threat sir?" asked Ringo, jerking away from Alexander. "And it's Mr. Starkey to you." He gave Alexander a dirty look and went back to the others.

"Are you okay, Ringo?" I asked as he passed me.

"I'm still alive, aren't I?" said Ringo. "I swear, that guy better get what's coming to him."

"I hope so too," I said. I watched him walk away with the others. Everyone was so distant today…maybe a solitary walk would clear my mind. It was still very cold out but I'd have to suck it up. The freezing air stung my face and I toyed with the idea of buying a balaclava. I pulled by hat further down over my ears and stuffed my already gloved hands in my pockets. I walked around the back of the cottage to where evergreen trees started to grow into a forest. It was cooler in there because of all of the shade; at least the sun was out on the set. I ventured into the forest, taking careful note to see the way out. Every once in a while I'd hear the rustle of leaves in the breeze and the skittering of a squirrel or bird in the trees.

The deeper I walked, the darker it was. I was starting to wonder why I was walking so deep into the forest, but I was just trying to walk away from my present issues. Maybe once I came out of there I would be able to speak to George again and beat the crap out of John. Now there were more dead leaves on the ground than snow. The trees were getting thicker and I was seriously debating going back to the cabin. But for some reason, I kept on walking, as if something were drawing me further and further into the center of the forest. After a few more steps, I felt something different than snow or leaves under my foot.

I looked down and saw a badly-buried newspaper on the ground. I stooped over to get a closer look and I saw that it was the paper with the story of the murdered band in Austria. I looked closer, and picked the paper up. I felt something hard and heavy fall out of it, and it hit me on my boot. I jumped back in surprise and saw at my feet a knife, about eight inches at the blade. With a shaky hand I carefully picked it up by the handle. Looking closely at the blade, I saw that whoever had last used it had taken special time to scrub it clean, but there was one little dark spot that looked spookily like dried blood. Not taking my eyes off of it, I wrapped the knife back in the newspaper again. Then something else caught my attention.

At first, I didn't know what it was; it just looked like a pile of fabric. But through the frozen air a sour smell was carried. I bit my lip as I carefully approached the object, clutching the newspaper-wrapped knife. My steps were heavy as I got closer. And then, when I was standing over it, it became clear to me.

Lying at my feet in the snow was a human body—a dead one. It looked male, and his skin was blue from death and cold. I couldn't tell how long he'd been dead, but it didn't look very long at all to me. His eyes were still wide open and in an expression of shock. Although he was outside, he wasn't dressed for it. He wore a long-sleeved shirt and jeans; not even a hat. He must have been dumped out here. I looked him over once again and saw blood dried onto his shirt all around a stab wound in his chest. The blood didn't look wet—it couldn't have been today. That was the only wound I saw, other than a bruise on his face. It was then that I really realized I was looking at a dead body. I gasped, dropped the knife and paper, and ducked behind a tree. I wretched, but nothing came up; maybe I was too disturbed to even throw up. I stared with wide eyes at the ground, still bent over when I heard someone calling me.

"Sandra! Sandra, is that you, are you okay?"

I looked up, careful not to catch a glimpse of the body, and saw none other than George walking through the trees over to me. "Sandra? Wait—what the hell?" he said upon seeing the body. "Are you okay? What's going on? Who is he?"

"I dunno," I said, still shaky. I was colder than before, and all embarrassment I had with George earlier was all gone now. "I was just taking a walk…you know, just letting off some steam…and all this…"

"It doesn't look too old," said George. "Did you just find him? How long were you here?"

"Not too long," I said. "And…there's something else too." I pointed at the knife and newspaper I dropped.

"Curious," said George, picking both up.

"That's the paper with the story about the band that was murdered here by Alexander," I said. "And I'm pretty damn sure that knife was used to kill this man."

"You should be a detective," said George, still eyeing up the two. "You think the dead guy's a band member?"

"It's a bit of a stretch for right now," I said. "But yeah, it could very well be."

"Are—are there any pictures of him in the paper?" asked George.

"I dunno, I didn't look," I said. I took the paper back from George and searched through. Sure enough, on the page with the story of the murders, there were photographs of all four of the former members, including the one lying in the snow—Stephan Eisenburg. He was easily recognized; thank God his face only had one little bruise on it. "Oh my God…" I breathed.

"It's so close to the set too," said George. "There's no question Alexander did it—it's like he wants to get caught. Sandra, I'll wait here with the stuff—you go back to the set and get help."

"Are—are you sure George?" I asked.

"Yeah," said George. "You don't look to happy being around a dead body anyway. Just find someone and bring them back here."

"Okay," I said. I took one last look at George and bolted out of the forest, running as fast as I could to find somebody. I was out of the trees faster than I had gotten into them. Soon I was out behind the cottage again, and then back on set. I found Brian and Richard with Jane speaking to John, Paul, and Ringo and went over to them.

"Sandra, where were you? We've been worried sick!" said Paul. "George went looking for you, have you seen him?"

"I was in the forest," I said. "George found me, he's still there."

"Is everything alright?" asked Brian.

"Guys, there's something you should see back there," I said. "Is Jake here?"

"No, he's back in the room," said Jane.

"Okay," I said. "We'll tell him later…come on." All pairs of eyes looked at me, asking silent questions. I turned back and led them back to George waiting in the forest, hoping that whatever was in that forest would help anything.


	13. Chapter 13

"Oh my God, I—I think I'm going to be sick," said Brian when he saw the body belonging to Stephan Eisenburg.

"Yeah, I saw Sandra almost was," said George. "Here's the other stuff." He handed Brian the newspaper and the knife.

"Oh dear…" said Brian when he compared the photo in the paper to the dead man's face. "This is…this is…"

"It's spooky, that's what this is," said Paul. "Sandra, what in the world were you doing all the way back here anyway? With a loony like Alexander running around here you could have been killed!"

"I told you, I just wanted to take a walk," I said. "And it's a damn good thing I was out here, or else we would have never discovered all of this!"

"She's right you know," said George. "And none of us are dead now, so why worry? Let's just get the cops on this body and we'll leave it at that."

"George's right too," said Jane. "So…do we tell Jake when we get back?"

"I'd advise it," said Richard. "Just…don't everybody swamp him at once. Jane and Sandra, since you two are rooming with him I think you two should be the only two to break it to him. I can tell Jake is susceptible to freaking out."

"Yeah, I'd say," I said. "That's a good idea."

"Well then? Should we reprehend that son of a bitch Alexander?" asked John.

"As much as it kills me to say this, not yet," said Brian. "For the same reasons as before…"

"But won't he kill again?" asked Jane.

"We just have to keep an eye on him," said Brian. "Just, for the love of God _don't _go around doing your own detective work. This little discovery was an accident, a good one, but still an accident. Any more intentional freelancing will get someone in trouble."

"But Brian, there's a killer out there, right _here, _under our noses!" said Ringo.

"There's a joke here, but I can't think of one and I know now's not the time…" said John, stroking his chin.

"Yes Ringo, we know," said Brian, ignoring John. "But we really need to be careful and not do anything rash. Alexander already had you by our shirt collar earlier, who knows what could have happened, knowing him!"

"I guess you're right…again," said Ringo. "Don't wanna risk it."

"Let's just do something about this body and go back to the cabin," I said, still trying to not look at the body. "I think I need a good, long shower."

"Trust me, after seeing that dead body I feel that way too," said Brian.

"What do you propose we do with him?" asked Paul.

"Well…we can't just leave him…" said Brian. "I suppose we can get the police…but we can't tell them anything about Alexander yet."

"This is all bullshit," said Ringo. "I don't care what it does about the film production, we need to nail this guy!"

"I feel the same way Ringo, but it's for the best now," said Brian. "I'll go down to the police station with Richard. The rest of you, go back to the cabin."

"You all have the rest of the day off," said Richard. "You were going to before, but now there just seems to be more of a reason, if you get me."

"Trust me, we get you," I said. "I'm ready to lay in my bed and never get out…"

"Well, we're going to have to head back regardless of anything," said Jane. "We need to tell Jake what we found. I think he of all people should know anyway."

"Yeah, you're right Jane," I said. I only hoped he'd listen to me long enough to hear the news after what he knew happened last night. If I was lucky maybe this new news would make him forget all about it. "Come on, let's get back." Jane and I left the forest and went back to the cottage.

"So Sandra, why were you _really _back there?" Jane asked.

"I just needed to get away from everybody," I said. "John was teasing me about earlier because apparently George spoke to him and the others and of course I felt like puking every time I looked at George. And Jake was depressing me too."

"You're just a ray of sunshine today, aren't you?" asked Jane. "But it's okay, I understand. I take it your discovery took your mind off of things?"

"That's an understatement," I said as I opened the front door to the cottage. We walked through the short hall to our door. I opened it slowly and saw Jake sprawled out on his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Oh…you're back," said Jake forlornly. "Not hanging out with George?"

"God Jake, stop it," I said, walking in. "Look, there's something we all saw that Jane and I have to tell you."

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up.

"Well…you know Alexander, right?" I asked stupidly.

"Duh," said Jake. "Did something else happen? Other than that other band he offed here in Austria?"

"Well…not exactly," I said. "But we found stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" asked Jake.

"Uh…" I said, trying to figure out what to say. "Help me here, Jane."

"Sandra went walking in the woods and she found a knife wrapped in this morning's paper and a dead body," said Jane.

"That was said rather quickly…" I said.

"What the fuck?" exploded Jake. "Whose dead body?"

"One of the musicians who was killed the other day," I said. "The paper the knife was in was the one with that story, and we know it's him from his photo in the article. And the knife still has a little dried blood on it."

"Oh man…" said Jake. "It has to be Alexander…why aren't we doing anything?"

I quickly explained to Jake Brian's reasoning. "That's some bullshit," said Jake.

"Yeah, that's what Ringo said," said Jane.

"Well, I can't blame him!" said Jake. "And hell, if anyone wants that bastard put away, it's me! The one who got away! The one who saw his friends murdered for Christ's sake!" I flinched; I had forgotten what Jake had been through in all of this.

"I know, it sucks, but trust me, he'll get what he deserves," I said.

"He better," said Jake. He didn't really say anything after that; he just stared out the window. I tried to think about what exactly would be going through Jake's mind right about now—he was obviously still scared shitless because his near-murderer was always within a mile radius of him at all times, the girl he liked (me…sadly) had a little hook-up with a Beatle—the one he idolized—and now his almost-murderer killed again…for the millionth time during this whole episode, I felt sorry for him.

"Come on Jake, cheer up," said Jane. "Say, they boys and I were going to hang out in their room later, why don't you come along? Sandra, you're welcome to swing by too, of course."

"Sounds good to me," I said. "Maybe it'll get this stuff off of our minds, right Jake?"

"Oh, trust me, it will," said Jane with another wink. I didn't understand…did British people just like to wink?

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"You'll see," said Jane with a smile. She sat down on her bed and tossed her hair back. "But for now, let's just calm down on our own a bit. Jake, I still have some leftover muffins I picked up this morning in the fridge, do you want one?"

"Sure, I'll take one," said Jake lazily. Jane dug through the fridge and tossed Jake a muffin, which he caught skillfully and started to eat.

"I think I'll take one too," said Jane, doing so. "I just love these things; I have quite a weakness for sweets."

"But you're so…thin," I said.

Jane giggled. "I guess I'm just one of those girls every other girl hates because I can eat whatever I want without gaining an ounce," she said.

"Lucky you," I said. I wasn't fat myself, average sized, but I wasn't like Jane; I actually had to watch what I ate. "I think I'll pass on another muffin anyway."

"Suit yourself," said Jane. "More for me!" A few more minutes passed, and there was a knock on our door. "Oh! That must be them," said Jane, perking up. "Come on guys, we're going over to their room."

"Why'd they knock on _our _door if we're going to _their _room?" I asked as I got up.

"Please, you know them by now, don't you?" asked Jane. "Come on, it means they're ready for us."

"What exactly is going on in there?" asked Jake on our way into the hall.

"You two don't like surprises, do you?" asked Jane.

"We just wanna know," I said.

"Trust me, we mean you no harm," said Jane. Whoever knocked on our door must have gone back to their room, because no one was in the hallway. I was really starting to wonder what those boys had in store for us…Jane obviously knew, but she wasn't talking. Knowing the boys, it probably wasn't dangerous, but it was also probably incredibly stupid. I could use some fun…but there was something very doubting in the pit of my stomach. When we got to the boys' door, Jane knocked, and someone opened it.

"Hello there," said John, who was standing in the doorway. "Hey, you brought em!"

"Of course," said Jane. "I figured they'd appreciate it."

"Jane, I feel like I'm headed to a secret lodge meeting, can you please just tell us what's going on?" I asked.

"Geez Jane, you didn't tell her?" said Paul. "I mean, it's something we need to keep quiet, but Sandra's not gonna blab."

"I wanted it to be a surprise," said Jane with a pout.

"Oh my God…somebody?" I snapped.

"Yeah…me too, please," said Jake.

"This," said George, holding up the very thing that they had on the plane ride to The Bahamas…a joint of pot.

"Ah…" I said, taken aback, but somehow not surprised. "And…do you expect me to smoke that?"

"It would make it more fun, but only if you want," said George.

"You can still sit down," said Ringo. "We didn't put tacks on the floor, I promise!"

"I swear, you guys make me do anything I regret, you're in for it," I said as I sat. I found myself strangely in between Jake and George…oh, what a time this would be. At least Jake and George weren't sitting next to each other. That may as well would be worse.

"Ok, who's got the light," said George, holding up the joint.

"That'd be me," said Paul, tossing George the matchbook. "Light 'er up, son!"

"Gear," said George. "Hold this for a sec Sandra." He shoved the joint into my hand while he sparked up the match and I held that thing as far away from me as I could, holding it by the tips of my fingers as not to touch whatever the hell was in there. I may have been closed-minded, but as far as I was concerned, that joint was illegal and smoking anything was bad for you. As soon as George had the match lit I shoved the joint back at him as quickly as I could.

"Thanks, love," said George passively as he lit up the joint. Love…that word started to make me think…did he forget what he said to me yesterday about loving me? I didn't want to push the question right now. Mind-altering substances would not make the answer meaningful anyway.

"Well, guess I'm first up," said George. He took a couple of drags off of the joint, the smoke coming out of his mouth and nose in swirls. The scent of the burning pot permeated my nostrils; it was strong, and caught me by surprise. My eyes watered a little bit, but I blinked it out before anyone saw. "That's pretty strong," said George, blinking a little in the haze. "Here ya go Rings."

"Thank you sir," said Ringo. H took a drag, and passed it on and on. After every person to smoke, the little room got hazier and hazier. I thought that even if I didn't smoke anything, I'd at least get a contact high from all of the smoke hanging around.

"Beautiful…" Jane said breathily as wisps of smoke blew from her mouth. She passed it over to Jake who did the same. And then the inevitable…Jake was handing the joint out to me.

"Uh…I—I think I'm good, thanks," I said, trying to push it back.

"Come on man, it's good for you," urged Jake.

"I really don't think so," I said.

"Come on Jake, if she doesn't want it, she doesn't have to have it," said George, already glazing over. That stuff must be very strong…it certainly smelled like it. I looked around the circle; to George sticking up for me, to Paul, John and Ringo all looking spacily at me, to Jane who was peeking curiously at me wondering what I would do, and finally to Jake still holding the joint out to me. It was in that moment that I realized I was still letting my parents run my life. It was like Big Brother or something. I saw now that it wasn't _me _who didn't want to do all of that stuff…it was all my parents. And what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

"You know what?" I said, finally putting my foot down. "Gimme that thing, Jake."

"Awesome man," said Jake, grinning a mile wide and holding the joint out again. I smiled too and took it. I winced as I accidentally grabbed hold of the burning end and George laughed as he helped me get a better hold on the joint. Once I was holding it right, I watched the smoke curl out of the tip of it. It was strangely beautiful; I didn't know why, it just was. The scent got stronger as it was right in front of me and it made my eyes water. Slowly, I brought the joint up to my lips. My heart started to pound—this was it, I was finally doing some thinking for myself and taking some risk…maybe having sex with George would be the next nail in the coffin…okay, maybe I'd have to think about that.

The joint was finally in my mouth, and it was then I remembered that I'd never smoked anything in my life, so I had no idea how to do it. I figured I'd think about how the others did it. I shakily breathed in, and the taste flooded my mouth. It wasn't a bitter taste, but it wasn't particularly good…or bad, for that matter. It was just natural and herbal. Probably better than any cigarette would have tasted. Of course, I breathed in more and much harder than I thought I did, and I immediately chocked and coughed harshly. The back of my throat felt burnt and my nose hurt.

"Oh no Sandra!" said John. "Do it again—softer this time love, you can do it!"

"Here," said George, getting up to the sink. He came back with a cup of water. "Drink this and try again, but only if you want, you know."

"I will," I said after a couple sips of water. I still felt a few small coughs coming on and my throat still hurt, but after one more sip I took John's advice and puffed again; this time not as much.

"Hold it in now!" said Jake eagerly. It took a lot to hold my breath, but I did. "Now let go," said Jake again, and I blew the smoke out; it curled everywhere like it did with everyone else.

"Well?" asked George as I passed the joint to him.

"Well…" I said. "I don't feel anything."

"Love, you're not supposed to yet," said Ringo. "Just wait, it'll hit you like a brick." And boy was he right. After a couple more passes, I had not only gotten the hang of the art of smoking—I was definitely hit. I noticed it by the third time around when the room started to spin and my vision went in and out of a blue.

"What the _fuck _man!" I shouted as my head grew light and eyes grew heavy.

"Hey guys, guys, I think Sandy's getting' it!" said John. It was a little hard to tell, but I think everyone was high by now.

"How's it feel then?" drawled George.

"Like a…like a…balloon…" I said. Why, I would never know.

Jane burst into a bark of laughter. "That's the s_illiest _think I've ever heard!" she screeched gleefully. "A bloody balloon?"

"Maybe we can all fly away together," said Paul. "We can all be balloons."

"No!" I snapped. "I'm the only balloon here!"

"Calm d_own _Sandra," said Ringo. "Balloons pop; you don't wanna be one of them anyway."

"Then what do I wanna be then?" I said.

"What you wanna be," said Jake, stroking his fake beard, looking up thoughtfully with bloodshot eyes. "Is a …y'know, I don't even know man!" He burst out into laughter.

"So…how can I know if you don't?" I asked. "I think I liked being a balloon…" I giggled shrilly and fell to the floor.

"Sandra, you're so stoned, it's cute," giggled George. May parents would have murdered me for thinking such a thing, but George was actually very cute high. That may have been my high self talking though…throughout the night, I felt more and more floaty and balloon-like as it had been so described.

Hours passed and the joint was long gone and we were now very lazy. The lazy stage they called it…I could see why. Instead of feeling giggle and giddy like I had been, I found myself leaning on George's shoulder, my eyes bloodshot and half-closed and the room still spinning softly.

"So…who wants to wrap it up?" asked Paul. "Everything's gone…"

"Allllll gone…" I drawled, flopping my arms everywhere, almost hitting George in the face.

"Very good, Sandra," said George.

"Thanks Georgie-Poo," I said with a dopey smile.

"I think that's our cue," said John. "Janie, I think you should bring Jake and Sandy back."

"How am I gonna pull those two away from each other?" moaned Jane.

"Like this," said Jake. He stumbled as he got up but he managed to grab me by the arm and pull me away from George. Normally I would have fought, but I was too tired and stoned to do anything.

"Buh-bye Georgie," I cooed as Jake brought me away to Jane. I waved lazily and George grinned and waved back. Once I got back to the room, I collapsed into the fluffy sheets (Jake took the couch tonight), closed my eyes, and I fell asleep in no time at all. Of course this would be the hardest morning I'd ever been through in my life…but boy was it worth it. Taking my life into my own hands while being away would be pretty fun.


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: I would just like to say before anyone gets offended by what may be posted in this chapter later on that I am indeed Jewish and do not mean any offence by anything said; it's to add dramatic impact and to tell once more how big of an asshole Alexander is. Thanks for understanding, and you'll probably know it when you see it!**

I woke up the next morning with blurry eyes and a pounding head. What happened last night? Oh, yeah, I got high with The Beatles, that's all…wait…I got high with The Beatles? Well, I guess that was one thing I could check off the ol' bucket list. I tried to sit up, but my body was too heavy to lift. Still lying down, I looked around to see Jane still in her bed and Jake sprawled out on the couch. Maybe I could spare a few more minutes of sleep if they weren't up yet. But of course, as soon as I started to drift off again, there was a loud knock upon the door. The three of us leapt up with a shout, and Jake ran off to the bathroom to disguise himself.

"Get up out of bed you lazy kids!" the voice outside snapped.

"Oh God…" I moaned. "Alexander."

"Good thing Jake ran for it," said Jane. "I'm gonna go back and warn him and help him out a little."

"So _I _have to get the door?" I asked.

"Well I would ask you to help Jake, but from what I remember, you're not so keen on putting on his nose," said Jane. I rolled my eyes and went to the door, which was being pounded on again, as Jane went to the bathroom to Jake.

"I'm _coming!" _I growled as I opened the door. I was very grumpy from whatever the hell I was feeling after last night's shenanigans. I opened the door to see a very critical-looking Alexander Jameson looking me dead in the eye.

"You all were supposed to be up half-an-hour ago," he said.

"What, we're not allowed to sleep in a little on our nice little trip to Austria?" I asked sarcastically. By the look on Alexander's face I knew that was the wrong thing to say, but I really didn't care.

"Watch yourself young lady," said Alexander menacingly. "I know you're not a rock star, but trust me when I say you're fast approaching my undesirable list."

"Is that a threat sir?" I asked coolly.

"I'll let you think about that one," hissed Alexander. "Get yourself out here on set now girl, you have a job to do."

"I'll be sure to remember that next time," I sneered. Alexander glared at me and slammed the door on my face. Jane and a fully disguised Jake came out into the main room at that moment.

"What was all _that _about?" asked Jane.

"Alexander was just being an asshole," I said. "And threatened me, but it's okay, he'll be put away long before he gets the guts to mess with me."  
"Man, what a jerk," said Jake. "Well, understated, really."

"I'd say," said Jane. "What's going on with the set today Sandra?"

"No clue yet," I said. "I think they're doing some re-shoots."

"I'm trying to decide if I want to go," said Jane. "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Lousy," I said. "Like a hammer smacked me over the head and made me dizzy."

"Yeah, you'll get used to it," said Jake. "Just have some coffee or something; it'll go away."

"I hope you're right," I said, rubbing my head. "Well, I'm out of here. See you later if you decide not to go to set."

"Unlikely," said Jane. "I still need to sleep it off…"

"I wish I could," I said grumpily as I went to freshen up. I got a quick shower, bundled up into all of my winter clothes, grabbed my camera, and went out the door.

"Good luck out there," said Jane. "Don't hurt yourself!"

I groaned at them before I shut the door behind me. I walked down the hall to see George sleepily trudging down as well. "You got the grumps too?" I asked.

George turned around slowly, his eyes still a little bloodshot and his hair tussled. "I'd say about that much," he said. "How are you?"

"Let's just say I'm furiously jealous of Jake and Jane being able to sleep in," I said. "I feel terrible."

"You know you didn't have to smoke it," said George.

"But I wanted to," I said. "I figure it's about time I stop thinking my parents are always watching me. Sure, if they ever found out, they'd hang me by my thumbs from the Empire State Building, but who cares? They're in Brooklyn and I'm in Austria. Fun isn't illegal."

"Well, technically, it can be, like last night, but you're absolutely right," said George. "I mean, I don't want to be the one to ruin the innocence of an eighteen-year-old girl or tell you what to do, but I do like your judgment."

I thought about what he just said about not wanting to ruin my innocence…did it have anything to do with our hookup before? I decided not to ask and brush it off. "Thanks," I said.

"No problem Sandra," said George with an awkward smile. Maybe he _was _thinking about the other day. "So…I think we're doing re-shoots today."

"That's what I think Richard said before," I said. We walked further down until we were outside in the snow once more. "So…did Alexander hassle you guys this morning?"

"Yeah, a little," said George. "You?"

"Yeah," I said. "And he threatened me. Said something like he knew I wasn't a rock star, but I was still on his bad list or something…"

"Do you think he knows we know?" asked George. "You know, about what he's been doing?"

"I don't know, but it sure seemed like it back there," I said. "I don't think we should be scared though, as long as Brian and Richard are in the picture."

"I hope you're right," said George.

"Are the other three out there already?" I asked.

"Yeah," said George. "They're feeling a little better than the two of us, lucky them."

"Yeah…" I said. "I still think Jake and Jane are the luckiest ones…they can sleep." We got out to the set where everything was all ready for the re-shoots and we saw Alexander grouped together with Brian and Richard while John, Paul, and Ringo were to the side. When Alexander saw me and George, he gave us a burning look.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up?" he sneered. "Four-eyed Jew and Fuzzy-Headed Scouse."

"Ya wanna say that again?" I growled.

"Now, now," said Brian nervously, prying the two of us apart. "Let's not get hostile this early in the morning!"

"Oh, I'm not getting hostile," said Alexander. "I'm just trying to save the morning!"

"Save the morning from what, dare I ask?" I said.

Alexander looked from me to Brian, and back again. "Trying to save the morning from a couple of stuck-up, coin-sniffing Kykes!"

That was it. That was the end of my rope, and I didn't care who knew it. With a primal snarl I leapt at Alexander and tackled him to the ground, making snow fly everywhere, and I held him down, hitting him with every square inch of my hands.

"I'd love to hear you say that again!" I screamed as I hit. "Ya wanna say it? Well say it then! Mazel Tov, asshole!" Brian, who was just as angry as I was, but could hide it better, went over behind me and pulled me off Alexander. I was still trying to take swings at him, and Alexander scrambled up, looking very scared and surprised "Alexander Jameson, I probably saved your life today, but just know that if _anything _like that comes out of that filthy little mouth of yours again, you're gonna be in for it," Brian spat with spite.

"I appreciate the warning, Mr. Epstein," Alexander sneered again. With that, he stomped away.

"Are you okay Sandra?" asked Brian.

"That asshole," I said.

"Sandra, he's a prick," said George. "His word means nothing." At that point, John, Paul, and Ringo came dashing over.

"Hey, what happened?" asked Paul. "We didn't hear what Alexander said, but we did see Sandra fucking jump him!"

"Yeah, what did he say?" asked John.

"I—I don't wanna talk about it," I said, still shaking with rage. I was very, very aware that I was Jewish, and growing up in Brooklyn, I was the vast majority. But there was always that _one _person who wasn't Jewish who would call me out on it. I never understood why they would, I wasn't different at all, but I had never in a million years thought I'd be called what Alexander called me.

"He called her and Brian something nasty," said George. "If she doesn't wanna say, she doesn't have to."

"Let's just leave it at that," I said flatly, messing around with my camera. "We gonna get started or what?"

"We're starting now," said Richard. "We're going to try and get this done as quick as possible."

"Fine by me," I said, taking a practice shot of the horizon.

"Shake it off Sandra," said Brian as people dispersed to their places, looking just as bothered as me. "Someone like Alexander ain't worth it—soon he'll be in jail, and possibly get the chair, depending on where he's convicted. I'm putting my hopes on somewhere with the death penalty."

"We can only hope," I said. "Okay, I'm sure as long as that bastard stays his distance for a while I'll be fine."

"Trust me, with the way you lashed out at him I'm sure that won't be a problem," said Brian. He looked off to the distance where he saw the boys having a snowball fight. "Boys! _Boys! _Cut it out and get into places! Now!"

"Alright Eppy, geez, keep your pants on!" John called as he threw his last snowball at Ringo, who then threw one last one at John's face.

"I swear, I don't know what I would do if I didn't love those boys," said Brian, shaking his head. "Okay, I think we're getting started now."

"Good," I said. I combed the snow for Alexander, but I didn't see him anywhere; he must had ran off. What kind of grown man who killed people was scared of an eighteen-year-old girl? Not that I cared; I just wanted him gone, gone forever. Once again, there was a call to action, and the filming started. After every picture I snapped, the more I thought about finally getting what I had developed. Or maybe I'd wait until filming was over. Either way, maybe seeing all of the photos I had gotten around the set would make me forget about the horrible ones. Like getting called names…or that dead body in the woods. What a fiasco this had been thus far. The re-shoots were quick, and soon I was surrounded by Beatles.

"Sandra, Sandra, Sandra!" John called after me like a young child. "We have a break for a day until we go to London and film everything that's left there! What shall we do?"

"Hey, let's go to the woods maybe?" asked Ringo. Everyone, me included, gave him a "Are you serious you dumb idiot?" look. "Oh…that…of course, never mind," said Ringo again, embarrassed.

"I dunno about you, but I need more sleep," I said.

"Awww, are you still feeling it from last night?" asked Paul.

"Very much so," I said. "Hey, who's that over there?" Coming up the bend were a couple of men in uniform and badges, and another in scrubs who was pushing a stretcher.

"Oh, they're here!" said Richard. "Men! Welcome, and thank you for coming."

"Not a problem Mr. Lester," said one of the men in uniform, who looked like a policeman, in a heavy German accent. "Our Doctor here has the body."

"The—the body?" I squeaked. "Sir, you don't mean—"

"Yes Sandra, we had forensic people look over the body you found in the woods yesterday, just to see what exactly happened to him and if he indeed was the man we thought he was. Just to be safe, of course."

"And does that mean, since the police are here, that we're going to finally make an arrest?" asked Paul.

"That we cannot do yet," said the second policeman. "We cannot make an arrest until we have more concrete evidence."

"But we already have all of this evidence!" I said. "The knife, the paper, and we also have a witness to the murders in The Bahamas!"

"I'm sorry Miss, but it's how the legal system works," said the policeman.

"Stupid system," I huffed.

"At least we've gotten this far," said Brian. "Let's get inside before we start looking a this guy…" he shuddered.

\ "And maybe we can talk to this 'witness' of yours while we're at it," said the first policeman.

"Fine by me," said Brian. "Boys? Do you want to come along?"

"I don't see anything wrong with it, seeing as we're all in this mess," said Ringo. "Why the hell not? Come on guys, let's go."

"Good show, Ringo," said John. The police officers and the doctor led us off to the cottage.

"We should go into the boys' room just in case Alexander comes back to ours," said Brian. "And they have the only room big enough."

"Says a lot about us, doesn't it?" asked George to the doctor, who just nodded. "Does he talk then?"

"He will do his speaking when it is time," said one of the officers. We entered the boys' room and the doctor set up the stretcher. "Do you think you can bring in your witness?"

"Yeah, I'll go get him," I said. George gave me some sort of a forlorn look mixed with a nervous one when I left. I'd really need to speak to both George and Jake, _separately_, after all of this crap was over. I walked down the hall and knocked on our door. Jane, very sleepy-looking answered.

"You know, you didn't have to knock, this is your room too," she said.

"Sorry Jane," I said. "I'm looking for Jake, is he here?"

"Yeah, I'm here," said Jake from the couch. "What's up, Sandra?"

"We—we need you as a witness for Alexander's murders," I said. "There are policemen in the next room who need to talk to you…and just so you're not surprised, they have the—the e_vidence, _if you know what I mean."

"The wha…oh, _oh, _yeah, that," said Jake. "Yeah, I'm coming. What about you, Jane?"

"I just don't want to deal with it all right now, no offence or anything," said Jane. "Send Paul my love; I'm still feeling like roadkill. I think I'll pace myself next time, if I'll care to remember. Good luck in there, and _please _tell me any breakthroughs—I'd love to be filled in!"

"Of course," I said as Jake came out of the room. "Come on Jake. You're okay with all of this, right?"

"I have to be, don't I?" asked Jake. "And besides, I have to. Without me, Alexander may never go to jail; I'm the only witness as of yet anyhow."

"Okay, just checking," I said. Although I resented Jake's feelings for me, I felt very, very bad for him. This poor kid, barely eighteen yet, tied up in all of this. But I could see in his eyes and his spirit that he wouldn't be broken down so easily. We needed more people here like him. Hopefully all of this happening in the next room meant we were finally making progress in the case of the murderous film producer. 


	15. Chapter 15

When Jake and I got to the room where everything was going on, they were all standing over the body on the stretcher. The sheet that was draped over him was pulled back a bit to expose his now even more pale face and chest; the wound, now dry, was visible. I held back a gag and looked away. "Is this your witness?" asked the first police officer.

"Yeah," I said.

"What is your name?" asked the officer to Jake.

"Jake, Jake Woods," said Jake.

"He's disguised to protect him," I said. "His fake name is Donny Brown, just so you know."

"Smart move," said the second officer. "Now, can you tell us what you saw the night of the murders?"

Jake took a breath as he started to remember all of the crazy and scarring events that had led up to this moment. "Okay, well, all of these guys came to my restaurant I was working at in The Bahamas weeks ago to eat, and after they left, Alexander came in," he started. Ringo gave him an encouraging nod as he saw Jake fading. "He was really mean and rude, and telling me how horrible The Beatles were and all, and then when my shift ended, he was still eating. When I got back home where the rest of my band was, I noticed a car parking behind me, but I thought nothing of it…and then…then Alexander got out of it, burst his way into the house and went crazy with a knife!"

"I this true?" asked the first officer. "Were you all at the restaurant?"

"Yeah," said Paul. "Us and Sandra."

"What happened after the suspect killed the—how many where there?" asked an officer.

"There were three," said Jake, looking down. "And I ran. Just…ran. Somehow I was able to hide from Alexander, I don't know how."

"Did he go after you?" asked the second officer.

"Well yeah, he was out to kill all of us!" Jake exclaimed.

"Why?" asked the other officer.

"Oh, for crying out loud, do you think he cares why?" I burst out. "Someone killed his friends and went to finish him off too!"

"But Sandra, they need the evidence," said George. "I know it's hard for him to relive it, but he's gonna have to for this short moment in order to get anywhere with this guy."

"I don't know how many times I've told this damn story," said Jake. "I just wish I could tell it once and have it done and over with."

"We understand," I said. Jake smiled forlornly at me and looked away.

"Okay, I think we can be done with that for now," said Brian, patting Jake on the shoulder. "What's the deal with our body?"

"Well," said the doctor. "It truly is the person you thought it to be; the forensics told truly."

"Does that get us any closer to the truth of everything?" asked John.

"A little," said the doctor. "With the testimony of the witness, it ties together. Mr. Woods, these young men told me that the first victims were members in your rock and roll band, correct?"

"Y—yes," said Jake.

"And the group of people in Austria, including the one right here, that were killed were a band too, if I have my facts right," said the doctor.

"It's all very fishy…" said John. "Do you think he's going after musicians?"

"Anything's possible," said Brian, biting his lip nervously. "Oh, for your sake I hope not…"

"I mean…would be have the guts to even go for these guys?" I asked. "He'd have to be crazy!"

"I hate to break it to you Sandra, but I think he _is _crazy," said Ringo. "I think we should have done a better background check on our film crew."

"Yeah, well it's a little too late for that, isn't it?" said Paul. "Officers, are you sure there's nothing we can do as of yet?"

"Pretty sure," said the first officer. "I'm sorry boys—and lady. This is all we can do for now."

"This better come out to something," said Jake. The two officers and the doctor nodded goodbye to all of us, and they exited the room. "Stupid…these guys can't even nail a criminal."

"Jake, the best we can do is wait," I said. "It's stupid, but it's how they work."

"They need to work faster," said Jake. "A killer's on the loose and they're not doing anything about it!"

"Jake, they're doing the best they can," said George, sounding a little irate. "I want him put away as much as the rest of us, but we can't all have American instant gratification." I shot George a rather nasty look at that comment, me being offended as an American myself, and he bashfully looked away. I knew he only meant what he said to be aimed at Jake and not me, but I still felt I had to keep him in line.

"Let's just try to enjoy the rest of our time here," I said. "I know the evening got a little screwed up, but we can't live with being all crazy about this."

"He may kill us you know," said Ringo. "I think it's something to go crazy about, I dunno about you all."

"But it hasn't even happened yet," I said. "Look—I know it sounds stupid and irresponsible, but we all need to chill until something else happens."

"I understand," sighed Jake. "It's just…" He sighed again and stopped.

"Come on guys, is there anything we want to do today?" I asked.

"I need to go see Jane," said Paul glumly. I could tell it was just because of all of this going on. He just didn't want to be out and about. I understood though; it wasn't like I could change it. "She's in your room, right?"

"Yeah, I think she's napping," I said. "So…anyone else?"

"I—I need to call Maureen, see how she's doing," said Ringo, most likely for the same reasons as Paul.

"I should call Cyn too," said John, shuffling his feet. "Ya know, check on the kid and stuff." He, Paul, and Ringo walked out the door.

"I think I'm gonna take a nap," said Jake. He left with the other three.

"I'm sorry Sandra," said Brian. "All of this…I bet you were just expecting to take some pictures and just leave it at that."

"I'm not sure what I was expecting," I said. "Man, Martha's never gonna believe this when I get back home…"

"At least you're certain you're going to get back home," said Brian.

"Well, why wouldn't she be?" asked Richard.

"Yeah Brian, Sandra's a right trooper she is, she can get through all of this," said George. "She _did _bloody tackle Alexander after all."

"Yeah, she did," said Brian, looking like a proud father. "Well…Richard and I best get going; we have some business to take care of with the film…thank God it's about the film…you two do something fun, seriously, I don't know what the others are doing, but they're driving themselves crazy."

"I think that's a mighty good idea if I do say so myself," said George. "What about it Sandra?"

"Sounds fine to me," I said. I wondered what would happen between us this time. Ever since that one last time we were alone together, it was like it had never happened.

"Have fun you two, and try to keep your mind off things," said Richard as he left with Brian. "Heaven knows we can't deal with any more than the usual stress of making a movie on our plate." With that the two of them left the room, and it was just me and George alone…again.

"So," George started. "What do you propose we do?"

"Whatever you feel like," I said. Wow, what a dumb answer.

"Wanna go for a walk?" asked George. "I mean, I know you hate the cold and all…but it's still nice to do before it gets too dark out."

"Why not?" I said, shrugging. "We could head inside when it gets too dark out anyway."

"Right you are," said George. We walked over to the door and he held it open for me. "Ladies first!"

"Oh, sweet, sweet chivalry," I said, brimming with sarcasm. I walked out the door and George followed. Before we walked outside, I zipped my jacket up to my neck.

"Sandra, why did you say 'yes' to going outside if it would bother you that much?" George laughed as we stepped outside into the fluffy, white snow.

"Because, it's something to do, and I didn't want to be cooped up in that little room all evening," I said. "Now come on George, let's do something fun." At that moment I felt something very cold and wet hit me in the side of my face, hard, knocking off my glasses and making me yelp in surprise. When I gathered my consciousness, I saw the blurry figure of George pointing and laughing gleefully at me. "George!" I yelled, trying not to laugh myself and digging through the snow for my glasses. "That was _not _funny! That scared me to death!" I finally found my glasses and put the back on. The hysterically laughing George came back into clear focus.

"Oh, come on love, you thought it was funny, admit it!" gasped George.

"No I won't!" I said.

"Go on then Sandra, get back at me, I'm wide open!" George exclaimed, showing that his hands were empty.

"Oh, you want some of that?" I said a-la tough girl. "Okay, you've got it!" I swooped down to the snowy ground, gathered up a hunk of snow in my mittened hands and chucked the snowball at George, hitting him square in the chest. He made an odd noise of surprise and laughed again. "Yeah, I got you good!" I shouted, quite pleased with myself.

"Oh, you're gonna regret that one!" George said as he gathered up more snow.

"But I thought you were the one who wanted me to hit you!" I said. "Now that's a bit—" I was cut off my a snowball hitting me in the face again. George let out another bark of laughter, but I was a little quicker with my recovery that time around; I nailed him with another snowball in a split second after that. It went on like that for a while after that, and I couldn't believe I was having a snowball fight with a Beatle—let alone the same Beatle I made out with a couple of days ago. Uhg, I had to stop thinking about that. Maybe if I was lucky the air would be cleared of that later on today. We stopped the fight when George noticed me shivering from the cold and the snow that had settled into our hair and clothes.

"Let's keep walking," said George with a smile. "Maybe if we're lucky we'll find a good spot to set up a fire or something."

"That sounds lovely," I said with a smile. George smiled warmly, warmly enough to make me feel like I was thawing out as soon as walking into a nice, warm room after a day in the cold, and we walked further down. "Just…let's not go into the woods, please."

"Oh, trust me, I don't think I'll ever want to go in there again," said George. "Or any forest, rather…they kind of creep me out."

"Gee, I can't imagine why," I said. I don't know where we walked or how long we were walking, because soon enough we stumbled upon the most beautiful sunset you could ever imagine seeing anywhere in the world.

"Wow…" I breathed. "George, would ya look at that?"

"Beautiful," was what George said. And it was. The slim ribbons of clouds were outlined with pinks and oranges while the rest of the sky was a mix of deeper pinks and oranges with purple, some red, and barely any blue. The setting sun glowed through the sparse clouds in beams of golden light, highlighting all of the blended colors. It was like paint on a canvas; yes, beautiful was the word for it.

"I guess this means it's gonna start getting cold now," I said. Well now, wasn't that a stupid thing to say? But no, I didn't register it as stupid, because when I got nervous, I always said stupid things. Go figure.

"Do you want to go back to the cottage then?" asked George, sounding a bit dejected.

"Oh—uh—no, I like this," I said. "I haven't seen a sunset like this in ages."

"You don't mind the cold?" asked George.

"Not at all," I said. We remained silent for a little while, just watching as the sun sunk lower and lower over the multi-colored horizon. It was very chilly out and I was suppressing shivers, but I wanted to stay out. I loved being out here with George, and frankly, I was scared shitless about what might happen if we went back to the cottage at this point. There was only a slim chance that the others were back yet.

"Listen…Sandra," said George, looking at me. "I—I think we should talk about the other day, if you feel we should, I mean."

Oh boy. I knew this was coming. Deep breaths and speak… "What did you want to talk about?" I asked timidly.

"Well…we both know something happened, right?" asked George awkwardly.

"Yeah," I said. "But nothing—nothing bad, right?"

"If you don't think it was bad, then it wasn't," said George.

"But do you think it was bad?" I asked.

"No, not really," said George. "Hasty on my part, yes, but not bad. Well, as long as you don't think it's bad…do you think it was bad?"

"George, you're going in circles," I said.

"Right, sorry…" said George. He seemed just as nervous as me. George Harrison, the lead guitarist for The Beatles, nervous? I never thought I'd see the day. "Just…I wanted you to know I haven't forgotten about what I said then."

"I was starting to wonder," I said. "To be honest, I've been really confused."

"Yeah, well, you had a right to be," said George. "I was silly to try and go that far with you, whether or not you'd done that stuff before. Just cause I'm a Beatle doesn't mean I can get whatever I want. You know I respect you Sandra."

"I'm glad you do George," I said. "And I know; I can tell you're a decent guy."

"Well then _I'm _glad you don't hate me," said George.

"George, why in the world would I hate you?" I asked. "That's crazy talk."

"I almost took the ultimate advantage of you Sandra," said George. "As far as I know, most birds take some sort of evil revenge on the men who try that kind of stuff. Hell, I'll say it, it's happened to me before!"

"But you stopped when I told you, didn't you?" I asked. "Well…I kind of freaked out…but still, you didn't try harder when I said no…I'd never hate you George, I don't even hate John!"

George laughed. "Well then, just who in the hell _do _you hate?" asked George.

"Alexander," I said.

"Not Jake?" asked George.

"No," I said, laughing too. "Don't get me wrong, I can't stand that he likes me, but I feel bad for the poor guy."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," said George with a nasty expression. "Oh well, just as long as he doesn't win you over, I'm good with that."

"Perfect," I said.

"So…not that we've got all of that cleared up," said George. "What do you propose we do about all of this? You know…feelings and all that jazz."

"Oh…" I said, trailing off. I really hadn't thought about what I'd say to that, no matter how far away I had seen it all coming. Now was the time to spit something out that sounded mature and intelligent. "I—I think we should still get to know each other a little more, if that's not too much to ask."

Much to my surprise, George smiled widely. "Well, that's a good start then isn't it?" he said cheerily.

"Uh, well, yeah, I suppose," I said.

"Right then Sandra," said George. "So…what shall we do now?"

I shrugged. "Beats me," I said. "It's getting dark out…"

"What do you say we start heading back before it gets too dark?" said George.

"Fine by me," I said. George and I walked back in the direction of the cottage side by side. I hoped that I could form a secure opinion around George soon enough; I had enough on my mind up here as it was. But at least this subject had a positive side.


	16. Chapter 16

I woke up to a nice morning, well-rested and cheerful, unlike most of the mornings I had spent on location. I wasn't sure if I overslept or not because Jake and Jane were already out of bed and the room. I probably didn't oversleep though because no one was banging on my door demanding an explanation, so I lazily sat up, stretched, and got out of bed with no problem at all. Today would be no filming; all of that was done for this location, and I was glad. It was beautiful here, but I just could not deal with the cold. I got ready quickly, got bundled up, and walked outside to where everyone was.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up!" John exclaimed as I came out to the four Beatles, Jane, and of course Jake being a little more distant. "Sandra, where've ya been?"

"Asleep," I said, stopping in the group. "What's it to you?"

"Now, if you're gonna be like that!" said John.

"Children, please," said Jane. "Play nice."

"We will if he can," I said, gesturing to John. "What's Jake's problem?"

"He says he screwed up his story," said George. "Said 'knife' instead of 'gun' as the murder weapon in his situation. He thinks he ruined the whole investigation."

"Oh, I'm sure if he gets a hold of the police and tells them he screwed up, they'll understand," I said.

"Well, that ain't what Jake thinks, that for sure," said Paul. "He's right paranoid."

"Jake, this is silly," I said to him, who was still pretty zoned out. "Come on, just tell the cops you got it wrong and give them the right information! It can't hurt."

"But…man, how could I be so stupid?" said Jake. "I know what I saw…I fucked it up man, fucked it up big time."

"No you did _not _Jake, you were just nervous and there was a knife in the room, you were _obviously _just stuck on the thought of the knife," said Jane. "Paulie, back me up here, I think I'm losing him!"

"Jane, relax," said Paul. "He'll come around."

"Oh, please," said Jake. "You all don't know what this is like. I could have ruined the whole investigation—you all know how fragile these things are!"

"Then tell them Jake, that's what we've been trying to get you to do!" said Ringo. "Honestly, it's the only way to settle things now."

"Man, you don't seem to understand!" said Jake. "The cops could think I'm changing my story; they'd suspect _me _along with Alexander, and that ain't right man, not by a longshot!"

"Jake, you're overreacting," I said. "Just drop it for now—you're driving yourself nuts. It's really not that big of a deal." Jake looked as if he was about to retort something terrible, but he shut up and rolled his eyes. I wondered if the only reason I was so good at controlling him was because of his feelings for me. At least they worked out positively in some way.

"Come on everybody, we have to do something nice today or we're all gonna explode," said Paul.

"Isn't this what we've started to talk about every day now?" asked George.

"Yeah, but it's worth it," I said. "Come on folks—get happy."

"Sounds like a stupid commercial slogan jingle thingy," said John.

"Well, who the hell asked you?" I said.

"Put the claws away kitty, you can hurt someone," retorted John.

"Oh, children, stop it!" Jane snapped. "I swear, the two of you together is like the apocalypse."

"I thought you said yesterday it was like an earthquake," said Ringo.

"Same thing," said Jane.

"I'll play nice if _he _does," I said, nodding at John. "Now come on, Jake, get your mind out of the dumps and let's all go out."

"And do what?" asked George.

"And not think about work or Alexander," I said. "Hell, I'm not even gonna take a damn photograph today! How about that?"

"I think that's the right thing to do today," said George. He turned to Jake. "What do you say Jake? Leave all of this doom and gloom behind on our last day in wonderful Austria?"

"If it'll get you to shut up," said Jake.

"Now, that's not very nice, is it?" said George. "Come on mate, whatever happened to that giddy fanboy from the Bahamas that waited our table?" Jake once again said nothing and gave George a dirty look, to which George just grinned at. Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Come on guys, we're going around in circles," I said. "Let's just hop in a car and see where the road takes us."

"I second that!" said John. "But I get to drive!"

"Oh, bloody hell John, you drive everywhere!" said Ringo as we all went off to a car.

"Well, I have the keys, I get to use them," said John, twirling the car keys he had around his fingers. "And besides, I'm the one who drives the best."

"Yeah, that's what you think Johnny, but wasn't that you who nearly hit that bird who flew past the windshield that one time?" asked Paul as John unlocked the doors. "Now, I dunno about you, but I don't think that's good driving."

"Ah, screw you Paul," said John, swatting his hand. He opened the drivers' seat door and sat down behind the wheel. "Just get in and take it like a man."

"Maybe you should too," said Paul, getting in shotgun. The rest of us got into the back somehow or another.

"So John, since you decided to drive, I think you should decide where we're going," I said.

"Since when was that a rule Sandy?" asked John.

"Since I said so," I said. "And don't call me 'Sandy' please, it annoys me."

"All the more reason Sandy," said John, turning around and winking at me. I didn't reply to that one; while we were in the small confines of a car, I wouldn't want to subject the others to an argument between me and John. John started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, still unaware of whatever the hell we were planning to do.

"You people like dancing?" asked Paul from the front.

"Uh…" I said.

"Perfect, John, what do you think?" said Paul.

"Brilliant idea Paulie," said John.

"Oh, I know," said Paul. "I'm always the one with the good ideas, don't you know?"

"Keep thinking that mate," said George. "We wouldn't want you to feel bad about yourself. Right Sandra?"

"Oh...uh…right, yeah," I said, caught a little off-guard.

"That's my girl," said George. And…he called me his girl. I really needed to sort out my feelings for him. Maybe once all the chaos of filming was over I would. But would I ever see him or any of them again after this was done? I really didn't want to think about that possibility; even with John.

"So…dancing you say?" I asked to distract myself.

"I do believe so," said John.

"John, do you even know where you're going?" asked Ringo.

"Keep quiet son, I'm working on it!" John snapped. "How can I drive with you yapping the whole way over?"

"How can you drive with _you _yapping?" I said.

"I didn't ask you!" said John.

"Do you two know you are the most annoying combination?" asked Jake.

"Yeah," I said. "But it's all John, really."

"Just do us all a favor and put a sock in it," said Jake.

"We'll try," said John. Jake huffed at bit. I understood he was grumpy and why he was so grumpy, but he was getting on my nerves at this point.

"John, look at this," said Paul, who was looking through a town guidebook that was in the glove compartment. "There's a whole list of places we can go in here, have a look."

"Gimme that," said John, taking the book from Paul. "Hey, there's a place about a mile out of the way! I think I know where we're going men!"

"Ahem?" Jane and I vocalized at the same time.

"Oh, yeah, and you two," said John. "Whatever you are."

"Excuse me John, but I happen to find Jane _ever _a woman," said Paul.

"But what about me?" I said. "I'm certainly not a man!"

"No Sandra, you're not," said George. "John, you need to get the genders right in this car or else it'll turn into The Battle of the Sexes."

"Who says it isn't already?" said John. "Just add me and Sandra and it's game!"

"Let's not go back to this," said a grumpy Jake.

"We weren't," I said. "Conversation Jake, it's okay."

"Whatever," said Jake. "Man, sorry guys…I'm just stressed out."

"Yeah, we can tell," said Ringo. "It's not healthy to keep it all inside, but I don't think it's healthy to moan and groan constantly about it either. I think we have to find a happy medium for you."

"I can try," said Jake, for the first time today showing a little smile. I was glad to see his paranoia wearing off a little; it would be a lot easier on all of us today.

"Well do, please," said Jane. "How much farther? I don't like cars."

"We're almost there love," said Paul. "Any minute now."

"Well how do you know?" asked Jane. "You gave John the book!"

"I can see it from here," said Paul.

"Well, all I have to say is it's about time we had some free time off," said George. We rarely get that you know; all part of being a Beatle. It's not as fun as you'd think half the time."

"I never thought it would be all fun and games," I said.

"Yeah, but there are a lot of other people who think otherwise," said George. "Such as…well, the general public, really."

"But what did you think it'd be like?" I asked.

"Not like this," said Ringo. "Although we had a slight suspicion…"

"Well who are you to talk Ringo?" asked John. "You weren't even an original member! Paul and I, and sometimes George, I suppose…well…we were there from the very beginning!"

"But you loved me enough to take me!" said Ringo.

"That _is _true," said John. "But I rest my case."

"Whatever you say John, but just remember I'm one of you now," said Ringo. I laughed; all of the boys were funny, but Ringo was a different kind.

"Now why does everybody gang up on me?" asked John.

"I could give you an answer," I said. "But you wouldn't like it."

"Let's keep it at that," said Jake, but not sounding as miffed as he had been before. "John, are we there yet?"

"Why don't all of you keep your mouths shut? I'm driving as fast as I can!" said John. He swerved on the road a bit, causing me to scream a little and fall into George's shoulder.

"Well hullo there, Sandra," said George with a smirk.

"Ah…" I said, shooting back up. "Yeah…sorry George."

"It's okay, it was all John's fault anyway," said George.

"Yeah George, you're welcome!" said John. "Oh, we're here guys, you happy now?"

"Very," said Jane. "Now I can finally stretch my legs."

"It wasn't that long of a ride," I said as we all climbed out of the car and walked to the front door of the club.

"Something you have to understand about Jane," said Paul, walking over to her and wrapping his arm around her waist. "She doesn't do well in small spaces with this many people—they make her nervous!"

"No Paul, not nervous," said Jane. "I just don't like it, that's all."

"Keep telling yourself that sweetheart," said Paul nudging Jane lovingly. I rolled my eyes and George and I caught glances. Of course I knew what he was thinking; I knew what he felt about me—he never really let me forget it. I only wished I could sort what I felt out, but hey, I was happy now, and that was what mattered.

"Come on, let's go on in," said George. We all went through the door and emerged into a nice-sized dance club that probably didn't look much different than the ones in America or England (Of course, I would have no idea seeing as I never went to dance clubs back home) and was blasting rock and roll music. When we were all the way inside, the loud chatter in the room got perfectly quiet and all eyes rested on us—but mostly The Beatles.

"Ya know…" said John. "I really don't think we thought this through."

"I'd agree," said Paul. "Maybe if we walk very slowly…"

"What's gonna happen to me?" hissed Jane. "They know who I am and that I'm with Paul; they'll kill me!"

"Just remain inconspicuous," said Paul.

"With _this _hair?" said Jane, yanking a lock of her bright red hair. "Not a chance in hell!"

"Look, maybe they won't know," I said. "It's Austria…" We all walked in slowly, trying to avoid eye contact from the numerous teenage girls all over the club.

"This is…weird…" said John as we sat down at a table. "I guess Austrian girls aren't as nuts as the other girls…I think we got lucky men."

"I dunno…" I said. "It's still a little creepy…I mean, they're just staring at us."

"I'm sure the chatter will start up again soon," said George. "At least the music's still on."

"Yeah, at least," I said. After a little when we sat down, George's prediction of the peoples' chatter started up again slowly. Patrons went back up to the dance floor again, but their eyes still rested on the boys. It was very strange, and I still didn't know if I preferred this to mobs of screaming girls that I thought I would encounter. In a little while, a shy, shaky blonde waitress came over with her notebook.

"Can I take your order?" she asked in a small, nervous, heavily accented voice.

"Oh, come on love, we don't bite!" said Paul. "Why are you all so nervous here just cause we came in?"

"Well…you're…Beatles!" said the waitress.

"Hell, these three aren't," said Ringo. "We're normal people—sort of."

The waitress laughed a little and we ordered what we wanted once we broke the ice a little. "I'll be right back with that," she said once we had ordered. She walked off into the now normal-acting crowd.

"That was odd," said Paul. "I swear, I'd have never thought the fans here would act like this."

"What were you expecting?" asked Jake.

"Screaming," said George. "Right Paul?"

"Yeah," said Paul, still very thrown off by the turn of events. "Oh well, I guess it just makes our lives easier without having to run from bloody mobs all hours of the day and night." The blonde waitress came back with our drinks and left to take more orders. I looked around the place at the bright lights and the flashy dancers all around the club. It was a rather nice place, but of course, I didn't know what in the world to compare it to. Maybe someday I could. It was then that I noticed a familiar sight. It was the two police officers from the crime scene at the cottage. They were working as security guards at the dance club!

"Jake!" I exclaimed. "Look over there, by the door!"

"Yeah, security," said Jake, looking over as well. "They keep us safe, what of it?"

"Look closer," I said. "They're the same police from the cottage yesterday."

"Oh…yeah…you're right," said Jake. "Well, what does that mean?"

"You can tell them about your little mistake," I said. "They're right here Jake, it's the perfect chance; don't worry, it'll be fine."

"Man, I dunno," said Jake. "I thought you said we were here to have fun and not worry about stuff like that."

"But Jake, she's right," said George. "I know that's what she said, but we'll be out of Austria by this time tomorrow, probably, and we'll never see these officers again…you owe them the real truth you know."

"Why are you so nervous about it?" asked John. "It's not like you did anything wrong."

"I didn't," said Jake. "I just…don't wanna fuck thinks up any more than they are."

\ "Jake, either you go over there and tell them your mistake or I'll make you," I said sternly with as much Jewish Mother influence as my own mother.

Jake rolled his eyes. "Fine," he huffed. He got up and walked over to the police by the door. "But one of you has to come with me." He looked right at me, and I took it as my cue to go over with him.

"It'll be fine Jake," I said.

"It better be," said Jake. Oh boy…were all seventeen-year-old boys drama queens, or was it just one Jake Woods?


	17. Chapter 17

"Sir, can we have a word?" I asked the two police officers by the door when I walked up there with Jake.

"Ah…oh, yes, it's you two," said the first officer. "What do you need? It is a recent case development?"

"Not exactly," I said. "Jake just made a _very slight _error in his story and he just wishes to tell you what he missed."

"Okay then son," said the second officer. "What do you have to say?"

"Well…uh…I just kind of screwed up a bit, that's all," said Jake.

"That's all apparent to us," said the first officer. "But what exactly do you need to tell us? It is important that we know everything about your story and the case."

"Okay," said Jake, sighing. "When I was telling my story of when Alexander followed me to my house, I accidentally said the murder weapon was a knife. It was a gun, I'm sorry I screwed up man, really."

"Oh…" said the officer. "Yes, I see, thank you sir."

"No—no problem," said Jake.

"Just be careful next time when giving details," said the second officer. "It can be very confusing to us."

"Yes sir, I understand," said Jake, looking down at the floor.

"Have a good day you two," said the officer.

"We will sir, and thank you for listening," I said. The two police nodded and I ushered Jake, who had his head bowed in embarrassment and shyness, back to the table.

"How'd it go?" asked Ringo as Jake and I sat down.

"Not too bad," I said. "Right Jake? I told you it would be fine!"

"Yeah…fine," said Jake, swirling his drink around in his glass. "Sandra, you saw their faces, they thought I was nuts!"

"Jake, forget about it," I said. "You're just paranoid and need to snap out of it."

"Yeah Jake, drink up that non-alcoholic beverage of yours and get dancing!" said John.

"Shove it up your ass, man," said Jake taking a sip of soda.

"Hey, young man, you better watch that bloody little mouth of yours or else you're grounded, son!" said John. Jake didn't reply to that one; he just rolled his eyes and sipped again. He still looked to me to be nervous, but he was hiding it well. I glanced across the room to the officers and saw that they were deep in conversation. I hoped it wasn't about Jake, although I had a slight suspicion.

"So…does anyone wanna dance?" asked George, shrugging. "Sandra, maybe you?"

"Oh—well—I—uh…" I spat out, not quite sure how to respond. "I don't dance."

"Sure ya do love," said George, getting up and walking over to me. Oh no…this couldn't be happening. "Come on then Sandra, what's there to worry about?"

"Breaking my leg," I said, shying away from George's touch on my arm. "Really, I better stay here."

"Oh come on Sandy, have at him!" urges John, kicking me in the shin so that I fell backward into George's arms.

"Thank you, John," I growled.

"Don't be such a grouch Sandra," said Jane, flipping her hair.

"I'm not!" I said.

"Well, you sure are sounding like one," said George. "Let's go on out Sandra, come now!"

"Fine, you win this time," I said, pulling myself off of the chair. "John, if my leg bruises from that damn kick you're as good as dead."

"Watch that temper young lady!" said John.

"I'll watch it when I feel like it," I said.

"I don't wanna dance with an ill-tempered lady ya know," said George with a sly grin.

"Well then maybe I should sit down again," I said quickly, making to sit down again, but George swiftly caught my by the arm.

"Oh no you don't darling," said George, dragging me out to the floor. "You may be ill-tempered now but I never said I couldn't change that."

"Well, I tried," I said with a smirk. I gave in and let George sweep me to the dance floor. The tune playing was bouncy, and I at least was thankful that it wasn't a slow song. George grabbed my hand and my waist, surprising me a little, but I soon relaxed and went with it. It wasn't like he was trying to kiss me in front of everybody out there.

"You feel tense Sandra, just relax, you act like you've never danced before," said George.

"I've never danced with a Beatle before," I said.

"Oh, come off it now, I'm a man just like every other one," said George. "It's just more people know who I am, that's all."

"Yeah, a _lot _more people," I said flatly. Suddenly, I saw the room spin and the blood rushed to my head as my hair flipped and heart spun when George dipped me. I yelped in surprise, and then as fast as he had dipped me I was back up again, dizzy and trying to find the center of gravity as George still tried to dance. "I think you need to warn me when you're about to do that George," I said.

"Well then, where's the surprise?" asked George. "That'd be a bit boring, wouldn't it?" Oh George. He may have got me there. I tried to stay calm as we danced more, expecting random dips and spins. It helped only a little, but there was a certain thrill to it all. Of course, sorting out what my feelings for George were was virtually impossible with the state my mind was in, and also the burning look we (mostly George) was getting from Jake across the floor.

"Just ignore him," said George, reading my mind. "We all knew how he feels at one point in life, right?"

"Yeah, you're right," I said. Of course I had felt that way before, so I could understand Jake's feelings, but I wished at the same time he wouldn't act that way. I loved the feeling of my hair blowing behind me as George spun and twirled me was intoxicating and I couldn't help but have a big, stupid grin slapped onto my face. It was intense yet fun; a different kind of intense than when George had me pinned to his bed. My heart was pounding in the same way, but this time when he held me close I didn't want to tear away.

"Ya see Sandra, you're doing fine," said George, holding me close. "You just needed to get used to it."

"Yeah…used to it," I said. That stupid grin was glued to my face again as I looked up at him. I felt like an idiot, but from the way George looked at me I could tell it was okay. Just then, the upbeat tune stopped and a slow ballad started. Oh boy…here it goes…I wasn't sure if I wanted to go back to the table or for George to keep dancing with me and not let me go. Of course, knowing George, he did the second thing.

"This is a pretty little tune," he said, looking up and around as if to look at the music leaving the speakers, his big brown eyes widening. "Almost makes you sleepy, like."

"A little," I said. "It is nice though." Way to go Sandra…slow dancing with the one and only George Harrison and all you can talk about is the music you're dancing to. At least I knew it could be worse.

"Don't you fall asleep on me now," said George. "We're just getting started!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

George stopped, and then sighed. "Look, Sandra, I don't want you to forget how I feel about you," he said seriously.

"Trust me, I haven't," I said with a similar sigh. "But it's just…I don't understand what you'd see in me."

"You're a silly thing ya know," said George. "You're a fantastic person Sandra, I think that's all you need to know. Plus you've got a sense of maturity, that's always a good thing to have."

"I'm glad you think that George," I said. "I uh…I think we decided to hold things off and get to know each other better though, didn't we?"

George laughed. "Okay, I know I came on a little strong at first; that's all my fault," he said. "Yes, that is a good idea…I just kind of got lost in my head just now and felt like saying something…sorry Sandra."

I giggled. "Oh, don't apologize; just dance with me!" I said. George did look rather embarrassed from then on out, but it was sweet. It actually made me feel more comfortable in my own skin seeing someone as bashful right now as me. We danced for one more song, and figured we had enough after that. George led me back to the table and we sat down. Jane and Paul had gone up to the floor, so it was George and I with Jake, John, and Ringo.

"I sweat, these girls here are creepy," said Ringo. "They all just stare at you, and not _one _has asked me to dance, not _one!" _

"Well you shouldn't really care, you're married," said Jake. "Maybe all of this goddamned fake facial hair is scaring them all away from me…"

"Oh, come on then Jake, some girls like the scruff," said John. "Anyone else getting bored here?"

"Doesn't look like Paul and Jane want to leave anytime soon," I said, gesturing to the couple on the dance floor.

"Well, we can always ditch 'em!" said John.

"John, do you have any conscious at all?" asked Ringo.

"No, I think I left it in…my mother's womb…can't seem to get a hold of it again," said John, pensively scratching his chin.

"I wouldn't be surprised," I said. John gave off a childish grin to which I replied to with a stony glare.

"Man, we've been here long enough," moaned Ringo. "Someone go drag the happy couple off of the dance floor and let's get the hell out of here."

"I second that," said Jake, getting up to somehow pry Jane and Paul off the floor. By some miracle or another, he was successful, and we were at our table paying the bill and getting ready to leave.

"That wasn't so bad," I said, zipping my jacket up. "It was kind of fun, actually. I should do that more often."

"Love, we can do that as many times as you like," said Paul. "Just remember that the girls'll be a tad bit different in other parts of the world…"

"I can take 'em!" I shouted.

"Yeah, sure ya can," laughed John as we walked out the door. Girls' staring eyes followed us all the way to the door. Of course, the two policemen were still guarding the door when we got there.

"Take care of yourselves kids," said the first one. They both eyes Jake skeptically, not saying anything, but nevertheless I inched Jake away from them and frowned at them. They nodded and looked back into the crowd.

"What the hell was that?" asked Jane once we were outside.

"I dunno but I don't like it," said Jake. "Sandra, I _told _you they'd be onto me!"

"They're not onto you Jake," I said. "They just have to make sure people coming in and out of that place are all right."

"Oh, yeah, so that's why you pushed me away from them then?" asked Jake.

"Jake—don't worry about it," I snapped. I was getting frustrated with the kid. Was I bound to be not only his love interest but his babysitter too? It sounded like the beginning of a bad romantic comedy. "We're gonna be out of here tomorrow; you're not gonna see those guys again."

Jake huffed and rocketed over to the car. George shrugged at me and the rest of us went to the car as well. Once we were in, John started the engine and drove off back to the cottage. We still had the rest of the day to pack our things and get ready for tomorrow. The ride back was rather quiet, but I was glad. At least Jake wasn't bitching and moaning.

John pulled up to the cottage after a few minutes and we all filed out of the car to our respective places. We got inside and the boys were in their room when Brian and Richard approached Jane, Jake, and me on our way to our room.

""Hello Sandra," said Richard to me. "How was your day?"

"Fun," I said. "Do you need something?"

"The higher-ups told me to tell you that they need some pictures from filming thus far," said Brian. "Why don't you go to the darkroom with your camera and develop some film?"

"There's a _darkroom _in here?" I asked. "Okay, if you say so." Jane, Jake, and I went into the room. "Well guys, I guess I have to touch my camera today after all," I said as I opened the bedside drawer to get my camera out.

"Good news is we'll finally get to see those photos," said Jane. "That should be fun!"

"Yeah, I think I got some pretty good shots," I said, camera in hand and walking out the door. "I'll see you two soon; it shouldn't take very long."

"Alright, see you in a bit," said Jane as I left and closed the door behind me. I walked down the halls and followed the signs to the surprisingly located darkroom. Who would have thought a darkroom would be in a cottage in the middle of The Alps? It didn't really matter where it was because when I walked inside I found it was a perfect, normal, darkroom, just like any other I'd been in. I walked over to the bins, unloaded my camera, and got to work.

I soon realized that I had taken a ton of pictures and that it would take longer to develop them all than I thought. Although it was freezing cold outside, a trickle of sweat ran down my face from the heat of all of my activity. I finally, after a long time, got down to the end of my photos. The sheet I put into the bin developed slowly and I pinned it up on the line just like any of the others. The picture began to form, and I saw clearly the photo I took of George in his top hat before the skiing scene was filmed. I smiled to myself and continued developing.

After only a few more minutes, I was finished. The pictures would take a little while to be completely finished, so I walked out of the darkroom leaving them on the line. I checked them one more time and then walked out. For whatever reason it seemed too quiet in that hallway. I brushed it off and went down the hall. When I got back to my room, it was empty; Jane and Jake were gone. They probably went to hang out with the guys while I was gone developing pictures. I put my camera back in the drawer and looked around a little, just in case anyone was hiding out. When I found nothing, I went out of the room and down the hall to the boys' room.

The door was ajar, so I opened it slowly without knocking. What I saw almost made me fall backwards into the door.

Jane and Jake were indeed in there with the boys, and Brian. They were all standing around a figure on the floor, who with my careful inspection I concluded to be George; he was the only one not standing. "What the hell's going on?" I exclaimed, shoving my way through the crowd.

"Alexander burst in!" Jane squealed. "He burst in and started to beat up George!"

Sure enough, George was lying sprawled out on the floor, unconscious. His eye was black and his nose was bleeding, but I couldn't see anything else serious. "Oh my God…" I said, my breath catching in my throat. "Where is he? Where's Alexander? I'll kill that bastard!"

"He ran before anyone could get a hold of him," said Brian, looking horrified. "Oh my…"

"Well what about George then?" I asked, horrified. "Are you just leaving him here like this, staring at him?"

"Richard went to get an ambulance," said Paul.

"Great, and the cops probably with him…" Jake moaned. "Oh well, if it's to save George…"

"Damn right!" I snapped. "I can't believe this…"

"Well believe it love, it's right here in front of you," said John. It was true; it was, all sprawled out, eyes closed peacefully, breathing (thankfully) softly. Alexander had better stay a distance from me from now on, because he had gotten me where it hurt the most. Why it hurt more than anything, I wasn't sure of yet, but I was hoping and praying to hear the ambulance siren any second. I kneeled down in front of George and stroked his hair gently. What was Alexander's problem? What did he have against rock and roll musicians? I hoped to find out.


	18. Chapter 18

I had never been as nervous as I was then in a hospital waiting room. Everyone said that George should be okay, but just the mere fact that he was beaten by Alexander, the rock musician murderer, was scary enough. All of us were in silence, twiddling our thumbs and waiting for the doctor to come out of that room with good news. We all exchanged nervous glances that said everything words were not able to say at the moment. In truth, we were all terrified.

"Do you suppose he'll be okay?" asked Jane quietly, at long last breaking the silence.

"He should…he wasn't hurt that badly," said Brian, but I could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"All we can do is wait," I said. It was true; I wasn't about to walk into that room. Not because I didn't care, but because I was frightened to death at what may be going on in there. Suddenly, the door opened and the doctor peeked is head out. We all sat on the edge of our chairs and paid special attention.

"Is he gonna be all right Doc?" asked Paul.

"Yes, he'll be fine," said the doctor. "Which one of you is Sandra Cohen?" I felt all eyes on me, and I shrunk down in my chair.

"Uh…I am, sir," I said meekly. I saw John grinning wryly at me from the corner of my eye.

"Mr. Harrison has been asking for you Miss Cohen," said the doctor. "You may come in."

"Oh—uh—okay," I said. Not that I was terrible surprised; George always made it clear to me how he felt, but I was still uneasy. Maybe I just hated hospitals. I got up to walk into the hospital room and I saw Jake's face fall. It was the most lovestruck, heartbroken thing I had ever seen, but no. I had to ignore it and be on my way. I walked away from Jake's face and into the room where George was.

"Hey," I said softly, peeking my head into the room. "How are you?"

George's eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to me. "Sleepy, achy, but I'm alive," he said. "How are you doing?"

"A hell of a lot better than you," I said, coming inside and closing the door behind me. "What the hell happened? Everyone was saying that Alexander came and attacked you. Is that true?"

"Well yeah," said George. "Came in, said he needed to speak to us about the film, and all of the sudden started wailing on me. I have a feeling the four of us would have been next on his death list if Brian and Richard hadn't come rushing over in a blaze of glory."

"I—I don't want to think about that," I said, sitting down at the bedside chair. "I'm just glad you're safe."

"Me too," said George.

"Why in the world did he only go for you though?" I asked.

"I think I was the first one he saw," said George. "Or I just piss him off the most…always thought that was John."

I giggled. "Well, I think John pisses everybody off," I said. "Where _is _Alexander now anyway? Did you see him go anywhere?"

"After Brian beat the shit out of him, he ran," said George. "It'd be a good riddance if he never comes back to the set, mind you."

"I hope he never comes back, the prick," I said. "But…if he doesn't come back, that means he's still out there."

"Yeah, kind of creepy," said George. "Kinda want to keep an eye on him, ya know?"

"Just like when you see an empty spider web…you know that creepy spider's out there somewhere," I said, shuddering at the thought.

"Are you insinuating I got beat up by a spider?" asked George. "That's a bit odd now, isn't it?"

"Not really," I said. "There are a lot of big spiders out there."

"Yeah, and none that I want to talk about," said George, cringing.

"That's good; me either," I said. "So what _do _you want to talk about?"

"How much my face is killing me," said George. "I tell ya, for an old man, Alexander can sure pack a punch."

"George, are you sure you wanna talk about _that?"_ I asked, smirking and crossing my arms. "Because that doesn't sound very pleasant."

"You're right, it doesn't," said George. "I suppose bullshitting is good just the same."

I giggled. "What do you want to bullshit about then?" I said.

"I thought we were already doing that!" said George.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "There's just no getting anywhere with you, is there, George Harrison?"

"Well, there's a slight possibility, but you may be right anyway," said George. "Mostly I just like seeing the look on your face when you're confused."

"I'm not confused!" I said.

"Well, you sure look it," said George.

"You're obviously feeling a lot better," I said.

"Much," said George. "Mostly because I'm not lying motionless in a hospital bed being poked at by doctors' instruments."

"Those doctors' instruments saved your life," I said. "You should be grateful."

George sighed. "I am…but…I just don't like being—er—poked at," he said.

"Poked at with what, exactly?" I asked.

George bit his lip, looking a little embarrassed. "It's silly really, I wouldn't want to complain about anything to you."

"No, go on," I said, eager to hear what George was so afraid of. "What is it?"

George hesitated, but the spoke up again. "Well, to tell you the truth…I'm right terrified of needles," he said.

I laughed, but a little harder than I meant to, causing George to blush. "Oh, sorry George," I said, getting a hold of myself. "But why would you get the needle now? I mean, you're not sick, just injured."

"They still needed blood samples," said George, getting paler by the second. "I think they're unnecessary, but hey, what do I know."

"Well, you got past all of that, didn't you?" I asked.

"The only reason I got passed it that quickly was because there was no way I could run and hide," said George, smirking. "I'm sure you'll hear the story from John soon enough."

"Oh boy," I said with mock enthusiasm. "That'll make my day."

"Trust me, it will," said George. "Possibly ruin my day, but it'll make yours."

"I wouldn't want your day ruined," I said.

"Too late," said George, making it very obvious that he was in a hospital bed.

I laughed again. "Hey, at least the worst didn't happen," I said. "We were really worried about you, ya know."

"If ya weren't I'd say you were insensitive," said George. "But I know you're not, so it's okay."

"That's really good," I said. Just then, the doctor walked through the door.

"Good evening Doc," said George. "What's the verdict?"

"Well, it was a tough decision," said the doctor. "But we've come to a decision. You will be able to leave in the morning, but you will need to stay the night here. Your bandmates and manager will have your luggage here early tomorrow morning, and you will be given permission to leave so you can catch your flight."

"Sounds manic," said George. "But okay I guess, if it's what must be done."

"It may be best," I said. "It's a good thing this didn't happen on a filming day; we would have been delayed a lot. You need your rest."

"Yeah, I know," said George. There was another knock on the door and Paul peeked his head in.

"Hey, Sandra, we've gotta go now," said Paul. "Hey George."

"Hello Paul," said George. He turned back to me and Paul went back into the waiting room. "Well, if ya gotta go, I'll see you tomorrow morning Sandra."

"I'll see you then George," I said. "Have a good night, and feel better."

"I'll try my best," said George. "Ask John about that needle story, you'll get a kick out of it."

"Are you sure you won't mind?" I asked.

"If it makes you laugh, I wouldn't mind a bit," said George.

"And if it doesn't?" I asked, getting up to leave.

George shrugged the best he could in his hospital bed. "Well then, we're going to have to talk then, aren't we?"

I laughed and stood over George. "You're silly," I said. "Well, goodnight George, I hope you're feeling better in the morning." Without much thought, because I truly wasn't thinking at all, I leaned down, brushed his thick hair to the side, and gave George a light kiss on his forehead.

"I see," said George with a huge grin. "Have a good night then, Sandra Cohen."

I grinned, blushing, and walked out of the room. I gave George one last look before closing the door. It was hard to do because I wanted to spend so much more time with him, but we did have to leave him tonight. It would be strange to go back to the cottage without him though.

"Hey there Sandra, holding up okay?" asked Ringo.

"I'm doing fine," I said.

"How's George?" asked John.

"He's doing fine," I said. "He's a little tired, but he's alive."

"Oh, thank heavens," sighed Brian with relief. "I can't believe he has to stay here overnight…thank God this doesn't screw filming up; we'd be ruined if it did, _ruined!" _

"But we're not, Brian," said Richard. "So boys, I think when we get back to the cottage you all should help pack George's things for him."

"We've got it," said Paul. "Right guys?"

"If you _say _so," said John. Jake had a similar sickly and disgusted look on his face at the mere thought of helping George out.

"Oh, John, knock it off," said Jane. "I think it's sweet that Paul is so eager to help his friend."

"Isn't it, darling?" said Paul. John mimed throwing up and Ringo rolled his eyes.

"And right about now we'd have a smart-ass comment by Mr. Harrison," said Ringo. "There's gonna be a lot missing tonight you know."

"Oh, don't remind me!" said John dramatically. "Our dear George, _gone! _Whatever shall we do?"

"Quit acting like a baby, that's what," I said. "Come on, let's get out of here and get ready for the morning. We don't have much time."

"Sandra, I don't know what we'd do without you sometimes," said Brian. "I'm so glad you dropped into our lives. Just grateful."

"I'm flattered," I said. John stuck his tongue out at me as we left the waiting room and the hospital. The car was parked outside by the valet and we all piled in. Minus one person, there was actually a lot more room than usual. I felt a little melancholy, and I knew why, but I tried not to let it show because of the irritating John Lennon sitting next to me. I thought somehow he knew anyway, because I saw a little twinkle in his eye and a small smirk on his face. Maybe now was not the time to ask about George's needle story. Maybe me mentioning anything about George at all would be best. Brian started up the car and drove off.

"Okay boys, I know we had a scare earlier, but now that we know everything's all right, we're _right _to work packing when we get back to that cottage," said Brian as he drove. The boys groaned.

"Hey, that includes us too," said Jake. "You all aren't the only important people."

"Geez Jake, what's gotten into you?" asked Paul. "Something wrong?"

"Nope, not a thing," said Jake. Of course I knew what was wrong. This kid seriously needed to chill out. George and I weren't actually together; I didn't know what his problem was.

"So no time for down time?" asked Paul. "Not even after all of this?"

Brian sighed, exasperated. "Just a little bit guys," he said. "But after that, to the bags!"

"Okay sir," drawled John.

"Just remember we're going to have to leave the cottage earlier to get George his bags," said Brian.

"Oh, it's always George!" said John.

"Knock it off John," I said. "George is hurt; you gotta understand."

"Man Sandra, I do," said John. "Geez, you and Jake sure have something up both of your arses; I hope it flies out soon, it's starting to bring the mood down."

"Sorry," I mumbled. "I'm just still a little freaked out about earlier."

"Yeah…" said Ringo. "Didn't Alexander get away?"

"That's what George said," I said.

"That's what we all saw," said Jane. "I'm telling you; you were damn lucky you were in the darkroom during all of that."

"I would have liked to be there," I said. "Beat up Alexander like I did before…I could have done it."

"Sandra, I'm glad you didn't," said Richard. "I have no doubts that you could have, but you don't deserve to get hurt."

"It would have been worth it," I said bitterly.

"I have to agree with you there," said Richard. The rest of the ride was rather quiet, and I was seriously considering asking John about George's needle story to break the silence, but no. That would be a hugely bad idea. After a couple more minutes, Brian pulled up in front of the cottage and we all got out.

"Okay boys, remember," called Brian as we all went into the cottage. "Just a short break, and then right to packing! And don't forget George's things!"

"Yeah, yeah, we've got it!" said John. Once we got inside, I hesitated on my way to my room.

"What's wrong?" asked Jane.

"Nothing," I said. "I'm—I'm gonna talk to John." I broke away from the group of Jane and Jake and chased down John who was on his way to his room. "Hey, John!" I called.

John turned around. "Yeah Sandra?" he asked.

"I was wondering…" I said. "George told me to ask you about a story about him an a needle." Oh well, I was curious!

A mile-wide smile grew on John's face. "Well, well, well, wanna talk about George, do we?" he asked.

"No!" I snapped. "I—I just want to hear the story, that's all."

"Fine," said John, still smirking. "One day, sometime last year, George got really sick. He had to go to the hospital, so, naturally, he needed to be plugged into an IV, which obviously uses needles. So you see, our George is scared shitless of needles, so when they went to stick him in the wrist with the IV needle, his reflexes took over and he grabbed the needle and stuck it in the doctor's arm!"

My eyes grew wide. "No!" I said, laughing.

"Oh, yes!" said John. "They needed to hospitalize the doctor! They had to give George pills to put him under so they could put the needle in properly."

"Oh my," I said. "Well, he _did _say it would make my day."

"Oh, did he?" asked John. "So Sandra…when are you gonna admit you have feelings for him?"

"When I actually do," I said stiffly. But I wasn't sure of even that.

"Right," said John, seeing right through me. "Well, when you're ready to confide in someone, I'm right here." He walked away into his room with a wink, leaving me to go back to my room to pack. I did wish I had George to talk to right now…I was lonely…but the thought of him stabbing a doctor with a needle was enough to keep me smiling.


	19. Chapter 19

The sun was barely up when my alarm rang. That was really the only thing I absolutely detested about this job. I was very glad that I managed to pack everything I needed with me that I didn't need right away in the morning last night, but it also led to me staying up way past the time I should have been asleep. My eyes were barely able to open as I nearly fell out of bed to go to the shower.

"Uhg…is it time already?" moaned Jane from her bed, turning over.

"Sadly," I said. "Get up Jake." Jake stirred on the couch and groaned. "Oh, come on kid," I said. I went into the bathroom and took my shower. Of course, the water had to take forever to warm up, and I was too tired to remember, so right when I turned the water on, it came out of the head ice cold, like it was outside. Needless to say, that woke me up pretty well.

My shriek must had been audible into the main room, because I heard Jane call, "Sandra, are you okay?"

"Yeah, fine!" I called from the shower. "Water…cold!" There was no reply to that; Jane and Jake were probably shaking their heads pathetically at me. Hey, it was done before. The shower was quick, and I got out, dressed quickly too, and was ready in a snap. Yeah, maybe that cold water was a blessing in disguise.

"Oh, Sandra, do be a dear and get one of those muffins out of the fridge for me please," said Jane as I walked back into the bedroom.

"Gotcha," I said as I sluggishly made my way over to the small fridge. I took a muffin out and tossed it over to Jane, who barely caught it, with a little squeak.

"Nice shot," chuckled Jake, putting on and perfecting his disguise.

"How would you have done it?" I asked. Jake didn't answer. "Exactly," I said again.

"That cold blast of water really did set you straight, didn't it?" asked Jane.

"I think I'll literally freeze solid when I walk outside, but other than that, yes, it did," I said.

"Well then, bundle up you two," said Jane, running around to get herself ready. "We have to hustle before Big Bad Brian comes running in here all frantic and whatnot."

"Yeah, don't wanna have to deal with that," said Jake, laboriously pulling on a boot. "I think these boots shrank…"

"How the hell can a boot shrink Jake?" I asked.

"Well, my foot definitely didn't grow that fast!" said Jake.

Jane sighed. "Jake, that's _my _boot you dunderhead, give it here," she said.

"Oh…" said Jake, tossing Jane her boot. "Where are mine then?"

"Night next to you, doofus," said Jane. Jake rolled his eyes and put on the right pair of boots. "I think he needs one of those cold water blasts, what do you think Sandra?"

"It could help," I said, braiding my hair before putting my hat on. "But in his defense it is really early…I'm surprised I washed my hair with soap instead of grabbing up the toothpaste."

"Nothing wrong with smelling minty-fresh," said Jake, standing up and wearing his own boots. He had been rather cheery during the packing last night and it seemed to had carried on till the morning. It must have been because George wasn't here. Jake had nothing to compete with. Of course, I knew that wasn't going to help him get to me anyway, but I didn't have the heart to tell him.

"That may be, but there's everything wrong with sticky, toothpasty hair," I said. "So…you both ready? I'm sure everybody's waiting for us."

"Yeah, let's get the hell out of here," said Jane. "Finally, home to good ol' England…no more snow."

"It's not snowing up there now?" I asked as we picked up our bags and went on our way out of the room.

"Nope, Paulie checked with Maureen and Cynthia up there about the weather reports," said Jane. "It's going to be beautiful!"

"Good, cause I've had enough of this freezing cold," I said.

"Don't be grumpy Sandra," said Jake. "We're getting the hell out of here!"

"Well, look who's telling me not to be grumpy," I said. "What have you been for the past…well…forever?"

"Never mind about that," said Jake. We stepped outside into the sheet of snow to see Brian, Richard, John, Paul, and Ringo crowded around a car.

"Well now, it's about time!" called John. "What the hell were you three up to in there?"

"Visiting the magical nation under the bed," I said. "What did you think we were doing?"

"Sometimes I don't want to think about it," said Paul. "Who has George's bags by the way? I don't remember taking them."

"_I _have them Paul," said Brian, gesturing to the extra bags at his feet. "Because you three were too lazy and forgetful to remember to bring them yourselves."

"Well what about Richard then?" asked John. "I'm sure he could have remembered too!"

"On the contrary, I did," said Richard calmly. "But Brian took the initiative."

"Can we just stop arguing about who remembered George's bags and just get them to him now so we can get out of here?" asked Ringo. "I dunno about any of you but I'm tired of all the snow."

"I second that," I said. We all climbed into the car while Brian loaded the trunk with all of the luggage.

"Oh, Sandra, you're gonna like that we're seeing Maureen again," said Ringo. "She'll like it too; she never shuts up about you when I phone her. She's gonna attack you for sure."

I laughed. "Well, it's good to know she didn't forget about me," I said.

"Who could ever forget you, Sandy?" asked John.

"I wish you would," I scoffed.

"Hey now, that's not very nice!" said John.

"Seriously Sandra, you may just be the only bird in the world who wishes John Lennon would forget you," said Ringo.

"Lemme tell you something, you're gonna love my wife," said John. "You both think the same."

"So your wife wants you to forget her too?" I asked.

"I wouldn't be surprised," said Paul.

"Oh, shaddup you," said John.

"Okay everybody, get set," said Brian, getting into the front passenger seat next to Richard, who was driving. "Hospital first, and then get ready for the plane."

"Gotcha Eppy Sir!" exclaimed John.

Brian put his face in his hands again. "Lord help us on the long ride home," he moaned.

"We can shut John up in the luggage compartment," said Ringo. "That'll shut him up."

"Just knock it off, all of you," said Brian. "Richard, let's get out of here, we're already behind schedule…this film is going to be the end of me."

"Relax Brian, we're leaving now," said Richard. "This film is going to be over before you know it."

"To the hospital!" called John.

"Oh…that's right…we're getting George, yeah," said Jake, losing some of his brightness he had earlier. Oh no…he had better not start up with his gloominess again once we got George from the hospital.

"Yes, we are," said Richard. He started up the car and drove off.

"So we're sure the doctor said he was alright to release?" asked Paul.

"Yes, we've checked with them many times," said Brian. "George is going to be okay."

"That's a shame," said Jake, who in turn received dirty looks from everyone in the car. "Kidding…kidding…" said Jake, sinking down in his seat.

"Can we have a ride without any stupid jokes ever?" asked Brian. "I feel like I'm in a grade school class…"

"With John here I don't think so," I said. "But we could at least attempt."

"There's our professional Sandra Cohen," said Paul. "Oh, we're here!" Richard pulled up to the parking lot of the hospital and into a parking spot.

"So we're _sure _we have George's luggage?" asked Brian as we all got out of the car.

"Well, you're the one who put them in the trunk, weren't you?" asked John.

"People forget things!" said Brian.

"Well, _you _shouldn't!" said John. He stuck his tongue out at Brian, who frowned, and John put his tongue back in his mouth with a sour face.

"Sometimes I can't believe you're married with a child," said Brian. "Okay everybody, time to get George."

"On it!" said Paul. We all walked into the hospital, which would have been freezing if it wasn't already snowy and below freaking zero degrees outside. No matter how cold it was inside, I had to take my jacket off. Brian checked us in at the front desk, and we were on our way to George.

"So then Sandra," said John, breaking away from the rest of the group. "Have you sorted out…feelings yet?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, nervously playing with the end of my braid.

John laughed and swung an arm around me. "Oh, Sandra, _Sandra_," he said. "How cute—of course you know what I'm talking about! Why, you haven't forgotten about our dear George, have you?"

"John, of course I haven't," I said. "You're being stupid."

"Stupid is my middle name!" said John. "No…wait…it's Winston…but anyway, you haven't answered my first question—feelings, or no feelings?"

"John, just stay out of my business," I said.

"Oh, come _on _Sandra, loosen up a bit," said John.

"It's not a question of loosening up!" I said. "Just—just quit it!"

John stopped me in the hallway. "Ya know Sandra…the more you deny it; the more _frustrated _you get; the more it tells me that you've got something to hide." I sniffed and pushed John aside so I could walk with the others. "Geez Sandra, I'm only trying to help!" said John running after me.

I wheeled around. "John Lennon, you listen to me," I snarled. "Leave me alone—you are being annoying, irritating, and are getting too deep into my personal business. Just _stop it_ and leave me to my thoughts!"

John just sighed and shook his head with a smile. "Alright Sandra, have it your way, but when you wanna talk, I'll be here," he said. We caught up with the rest of the group, who were in front of George's door already.

"Where the hell were you two?" asked Paul.

"Not important," I said. "Is George in there?"

"Yeah, we were waiting for you," said Paul.

"Okay…thanks," I said.

"Are we ready now?" asked Brian. "We can't afford to wait any longer—we need to be on the plane and over to England!"

"Keep your pants on Eppy, we'll be over there," said John. Brian thankfully ignored the comment and opened the door to George's room.

"George?" Brian whispered into the room. "George, wake up, were here."

"I'm awake," came that familiar drawl from the hospital bed. Brian opened the door more and there was George, lying down in the bed, looking up from under his thick bangs at all of us. "Is it time for me to finally leave this place?"

"Yeah, we're just waiting for the doctor to make it official," said Brian. Just then, the doctor came right into the room. "Hello doctor, how are we doing?"

"Very well," said the doctor. "Are you here to pick up George?"

"Yes, we are," said Brian. "I take it he's all set to go?"

"Yes, he is," said the doctor. "As soon as he's dressed he'll be ready to go."

"Hey, don't you tell me when I'm ready!" said George. "Only joking of course, you're in charge here ya know."

The doctor nodded, handed George his folded clothes, and walked out of the room. "Okay George, get your clothes on and meet us outside of the room," said Brian.

"Unless you want Sandra to stay with you," John snickered.

"John, cool it with all of that, can't you see it bothers her?" said Ringo.

"Yes!" said John.

"I agree with Ringo," I said. "Cool it."

"I agree with that," said George. "But if you'll please, I think you should knock off the arguing and let me dress so we can get out of this hellhole faster."

"Yes George, sorry," I said, a little embarrassed.

"No need to apologize Sandra," said George. "It's good to see you again."

I smiled, but Brian ushered us all out of the room. A minute or two later, George was out, fully dressed and fixing up his tussled hair. "Well, I certainly went through an adventure here," he said. "Glad to be out. I wonder if I have any bedsores…"

"Boy is it good to have you back George," said Ringo. "I tell you, we were missing something with you gone."

"Why thank you Ringo, and may I say I was missing a lot without all of you here for the night," said George.

I laughed. "I'm sure you were George," I said.

"Okay everybody, we're all set here," said Richard. "Let's get out of here and over to the airport."

"Happy to be going home?" asked Jane as we started to leave. "I know I am!"

"Man, where _is _home?" asked Jake. "I have no clue anymore…" Yep, the gloom sure was back for him.

"America," I said. "At least for us."

"Are you kidding?" asked Paul. "Jake's a regular refuge! He knows no home, always on the run!"

"Yeah, thanks for rubbing it in," said Jake.

"Leave him alone now, we can't afford any meltdowns," said George. "It's bad enough you had to live without me for a night."

"Oh, very bad," said Jake.

"And what was that supposed to mean?" asked George, eyeing Jake dangerously.

"Just that it was bad," said Jake.

"Oh my God you two, stop it," I said. "Do I have to be Mommy Cohen every day?"

"You don't have to be," said George. "You choose to!"

"I guess so," I said.

"Sandra, don't worry about them, I'll deal with their childish antics," said Brian. We had reached the car and were all getting in again.

"But I'm not a Beatle," said Jake. "I'm not your charge!"

Brian and Richard climbed in the front seats. "Yes Jake, but I still don't want to dump all responsibility on poor Sandra," said Brian.

"Thank you sir," I said.

Richard chuckled as he started up the car. "You all are a delight," he said. "I will miss seeing you greatly after this film is over."

"And we'll miss you," said Paul. "But for now, we're stuck with each other, so we have to make the best of it!" The car drove off to the airport. I had to admit, I was looking forward to going to England. It would be nice to see Maureen again after so long, and also nice to get out of this stupid snow. Sitting next to George in the car again was nice too. I could tell he was happy to see me, but whatever drugs they gave him in the hospital were making him sleepy. I saw him nodding off little by little, his big dark eyes drooping and his mouth opened slightly. It was a sweet sight.

After a minute of nodding, George was finally fast asleep. His head drooped over his shoulder and his hair flopped in his face. Studying his face, I saw one of the most beautiful men I had ever met. His eyelashes were long, fanning out across his cheeks with his eyes closed and he looked so peaceful. I tried to keep what John was bugging me about out of my head, but it was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. Yes, it was a very possible thing that I had some kinds of feelings for George Harrison.


	20. Chapter 20

"Okay everybody, we're running a little behind, so get out of the car and to the terminal _quickly _and don't stop for anything," said Brian once the car was parked in the lot of the airport.

"You mean no stopping to communicate with random, beautiful strangers?" asked John.

Brian sighed. "No John, you may not," he said.

"You know," said George. "The more you respond to his childish comments and antics and the like, the more he's going to pull them on you. He has the mentality of a five-year-old, that's how they work."

"But if I ignore it he'll still keep at it," said Brian. "Just everybody get out and go to the plane, they've been waiting for us out there for long enough."

"One day you'll listen to me," said George. We all walked inside and I shed my jacket, gloves, and hat right away. It was actually very warm inside the terminal; probably because it was so freezing outside.

"Man, it's gonna be nice to leave here," I said.

"I agree," said George. "It'll be nice to leave the place I got the shit beat out of me in. By the way, it's nice to see you again Sandra."

"Nice to see you too," I said. "Did you have a good nap?"

"What?" asked George, looking confused. "Oh, yeah, I did fall asleep on the way here, didn't I?"

"I can't say I blame you," I said. "They must have had you on all sorts of pain meds. Any more needles?"

"Nope, I got lucky," said George. "Did you ever ask John about that story?"

I laughed out loud. "Yeah, it was a riot!" I said. "I can't ever imagine you sticking a doctor with a needle!"

"Well believe it," said George. "When one's scared shitless, one can do crazy things."

"I can believe you there," I said. I started to remember my thoughts on the car ride over here. About how feelings may had been getting more organized and how I might like George a little more than I thought I did. I knew I didn't have to worry about rejection since I knew how George felt about me, but the possibility of feeling still made me squirm.

"Something wrong?" asked George.

"Oh—oh no, nothing, I'm fine," I said, but I did feel very flustered.

"Okay, suit yourself Sandra," said George. I always liked how his always kind of flipped the "R" in my name because of his rough-edged Scouse accent. It was like he was personalizing my name. "So," continued George. "I've been thinking—"

"Hey there Sandra!" exclaimed Jake, pushing his way between George and I, who both had exasperated expressions on our faces.

"What's up Jake?" I asked, fuming.

"Well, it's just that…" Jake started, smoothing out his false beard nervously. "Ya know, remember last time we were on a plane and you sat by George and you told me you'd sit by me next time?"

I sighed. Oh boy, was he really going to bring that back on me? I just said "next time" to shut him up. But when I looked at those hopeful blue eyes it was so hard to show my annoyance. I looked between him and George, who was smirking slightly, in his normal way that was way too hard to read. "Well—I—," I started. "I guess I did make a promise."

"Great!" said Jake. "You can have the window if you want!"

"I'd prefer aisle," I said, looking down at the floor. I glanced over at George and he was looking at me with understanding and sympathetic eyes; he wasn't upset and it seemed like he understood everything.

"Okay, fine with me," said Jake, looking like an excited puppy. "I'll meet up with you there!" He bolted off to the others, possibly to brag to them about winning the seat next to me.

"Sorry…" I said to George.

"It's fine," said George. "I understand. He's a little annoying, and not the type of person I'd like to see you date—sorry for sounding like one of your parents, but it's true—but maybe it's the best thing to do to shut him up."

"I wish I didn't have to," I said, making a face. "But I guess a few hours next to him won't kill me."

"That's the spirit," said George. We caught up with the rest of the group in the bag checking line.

"John, Ringo," said Brian. "Are your wives going to be waiting for us at the airport in London?"

"Maureen will," said Ringo. "John?"

"Nah, Cyn has to take care of Julian," said John. "She'll meet us on set though."

"Julian?" I asked.

"That son you can't believe I have," said John. "Mothered by that wife you can't believe I have either."

"Oh, I see," I said. "Well, nevertheless, I'm looking forward to meeting them."

"Glad to hear," said John.

"Jane, do you have any work to do when we get to England?" asked Paul.

"Well, other than critiquing your horrible acting quality, no, nothing on the books yet," said Jane with a humorous glimmer in her eye.

"Stop sounding like Alexander," said Paul. "He's off the crew for now, so I don't wanna deal with that crap if I don't have to."

"Sorry love, I was only joking…sort of…" said Jane.

"I know love," said Paul, swinging an arm around Jane.

"I swear, those two make me want to throw up sometimes," I muttered to George and Ringo.

"Aye, but they're not perfect," said George.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Oh, they have their fights," said Ringo. "Paul cheats on that poor girl all the time on tour."

"Does she know?" I asked.

"Of course she does," said George.

"How in the hell are they still together?" I asked.

"Jane's all too forgiving if you ask me," said Ringo. "She has her sights on marriage and the like. She's too blindly in love with him, and Paul's very possessive."

"Ah…" I said. "I mean…to the public eye they seem to work."

"That's the point," said George. We walked through all of the other lines and gates and everything until we finally got to the gate for the private jet.

"Okay all, we're here, finally," said Brian. "Hop on in; we've got no time to waste."

"One after the other now boys, and ladies," said Richard, tipping his head to Jane and I as we all filed up the steps and into the plane.

"Sandra, over here!" called Jake from a seat, waving like an overexcited maniac.

John snickered and George rolled his eyes as I plodded over with a frown covered up by a fake smile to Jake. "Hey there Jake," I said as I sat down. Of course, I had the aisle seat as he promised.

"Hey Sandra," said Jake, a little more calmly than he had been speaking to me. I was thankful for that, but I'd still rather be by George. I'd have to try to not make it obvious; while Jake drove me up the freaking wall sometimes, I still wanted to be nice to him. Maybe that was my downfall. "How're you doing?"

"Can't complain," I said. Well, actually I could, but a little white lie never hurt anybody. There as more silence as everybody else took their seats. I turned around to see everybody else and gave a pained expression that everyone returned.

"That's good," said Jake finally. He fiddled with his thumbs in his lap and bit his lip. Why did he have to be so awkward? It just made it worse. I didn't know if I should say something or just keep quiet. It seemed either way I went the situation wouldn't improve. Did Jake want to sit next to me just to be able to look at me or to make sure that I wasn't by George? Or did he actually want to talk to me? "So…" Jake started up again. "Having fun here?"

"Yeah, it's pretty cool," I said. "Uh…you?"

"Trying," said Jake. "Kinda hard when you know Alexander's on the loose…"

"Oh, yeah, that," I said. Yeah, thanks for reminding me Jake, good job. "Well…maybe that means you may be able to take off the disguise."

"Yeah, this thing," said Jake, poking at his false nose. "I was thinking of asking Brian or Richard about that, ya know, to see what they think about it."

"Good idea," I said. After that, it was silent again. I thought of George back there sitting next to John, laughing and joking. What I would give to be back there with him than up here with shaky, awkward Jake. At least he was staring out the window and not at me. I thanked my lucky stars that Jake wasn't the staring type.

"I tell ya what, I'll be happy when I can stop wearing all of this crap," said Jake. "You have no clue how uncomfortable this is."

"Yeah, I can imagine," I said flatly, staring at my feet.

"Are you okay?" asked Jake.

"Uh—yeah—just sleepy," I said.

"Then go to sleep," said Jake.

"I'd rather not now," I said. "I need to stay awake; closing my eyes makes me sick." In all honesty, I just didn't want to be asleep right next to Jake. Not that I didn't trust him, but I couldn't stand the thought of him staring at my sleeping face. I really was sleepy though; I painstakingly tried to keep my eyes open so much that I felt tears.

Jake laughed nervously. "Well, that's just as well I guess," he said. "Wouldn't want ya getting sick, now would we?" The rest of the flight (which was many hours long, by the way, just to add a little painful emphasis) ended up being exactly like that. Little awkward outbursts by Jake, followed by brush-off answers by me. I tried my hardest to keep awake and a chorus of angels sounded in my head when the stewardess came around with a pitcher of coffee. A cup of that kept me awake for the rest of the way.

The coffee was probably ultimately a horrible idea because I was left for the remainder of the flight sitting jittery and restless in my seat, kicking the back of the chair in front of me (which thankfully no one was sitting in), playing with the end of my braid, and compulsively cleaning my glasses.

"Sandra…" said Jake cautiously. "I r_eally _don't think you should have had that coffee on an airplane."

"Yeah, don't you think I'm learning that already?" I snapped. Jake bit his lip and turned away. He was probably learning what to say to me and when by now.

To my greatest delight, right after that, the pilot spoke over the loudspeaker, "_We are approaching the airport and will be landing in London shortly." _I took a breath and lay back as I felt the plane lean forward as we began our descent. This landing was very smooth, the complete opposite from that first horrible landing with Maureen the first time I landed in London. It was pretty quick and painless, and once we were down, I grabbed my luggage and left my seat as fast as possible to avoid having to be stuck being by Jake for another moment longer. I was the first one out of the plane and into the terminal, followed by Brian and Richard leading the boys, Jake, and Jane out.

"So you think you're above us Sandra, not being able to walk out with the rest of us?" said John.

"Actually, I thought I was," I said. "Totally superior."

"No one's better than The Beatles," said John. "Not even Jesus!"

"John, I wouldn't say anything like that if I were you," said George. "It could start a controversy."

"My ass it will!" said John. "And besides, if it does, no publicity is bad publicity!"

"Whatever you say John," said George, shaking his head.

"Ringo, are we waiting for Maureen here?" asked Brian.

"Yeah, she should be here any minute," said Ringo. Sure enough, a familiar dark-haired, round-bellied figure was rushing up to us as fast as she could.

"I'm here guys, I'm here!" called Maureen as she slowed her run to a heavy-stepped walk, tired out from running in her current state. "Ritchie!"

"Hey there Mo," said Ringo, embracing his wife. "Feeling better?"

"Oh, so much better," said Maureen. "It was those bloody planes." She turned and saw me. "Sandra! It's so good to see you again!"

"Good to see you too, Maureen," I said. She let go of Ringo and came over to hug me next. "How are you?"

"Not too bad," said Maureen. "Not nearly as sick, but being pregnant does have its many ups and downs."

"I can only imagine," I said. "Hey, Jake, you've got someone to fix your nose up good again."

"Yeah, don't I?" said Jake. "But there's a chance I won't need it! Did you hear? Alexander beat George up, and then made a run for it! He's gone man!"

"Jake, I'm surprised at you!" said Brian. "I would think you of all people would know that you have to keep the disguise on until the maniac is caught for good. You don't know where he is, and until you do, you're still in great danger."

"Ah, right…" said Jake, disappointed. "Well Maureen, I guess you still have your job back."

"Fine by me," said Maureen with a sweet smile. "It was interestingly enjoyable anyway. Oh, Jane, it's great to see you!" The two Beatle girls lagged behind the group to catch up while the rest of us took the lead.

"So, how was sitting next to Jakeie-poo for the while flight?" asked George to me.

I rolled my eyes. "Terrible," I said. "He's so awkward! I almost feel bad for him."

"Well don't," said George. "He's nothing but a puppy…I mean, no one likes to kick the puppy, but sometimes you have to."

"Kick the puppy?" I asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"Don't be afraid to be firm with Jake, A.K.A the puppy," said George. "Don't actually kick him, but I thought the analogy of 'kick the puppy' worked well just the same."

"Yeah, once you explain it a little it does," I said, still a little throw-off by the violent comparison. I guess it was a little necessary to think that way with Jake though. After all, he w_as _kind of like a puppy.

"But anyway, sorry I couldn't save you," said George. "I suppose that would have been a good opportunity for _either _of us to kick the puppy."

"What puppy is this?" asked Paul, sneaking into our conversation.

"Jake," said George.

"Ah, yes," said Paul. "I remember seeing poor Sandra having to sit next to him. How'd it go?"

"Like I told George, terrible," I said.

"Gotta feel a little bad for the kid though," said Paul. "Been through a lot, he has."

"Yeah, you're right," I said. "But still…" We walked farther down to the front of the airport, where two taxis were waiting. The boys and Brian got into one of them, and I broke off with Maureen, Jane, and Jake to the other one with Richard, who grabbed a newspaper before getting in with all of us.

"Let's see what's going on in the world today," said Richard, opening the paper and starting to read once we were all settled in the car. "Oh…oh my God…"

"What's wrong?" asked Maureen.

"It seems Alexander's done it again," said Richard, his eyes not leaving the paper.

"On no!" exclaimed Jake. "What's he done? Where is he?"

"From what it says here, he's here in London," said Richard gloomily. "Oh dear…I can't believe he's gone this far…the boys are really in danger now."

"How are they in danger?" asked Jane, who was frantic. "I swear, if he goes anywhere near my Paulie he's dead!"

"Read for yourself," said Richard. He handed me the paper, and Maureen, Jake, and Jane crowded around me to read the headline:

"**Crazed Murderer Who Killed Members from Two Different Locally-Known Rock and Roll Bands Goes For The Rolling Stones' Own Mick Jagger"**

"Oh God…" I said, shuddering and shaking. "It's…it's come to this, hasn't it?"

"I'm afraid so," said Richard. "Thankfully Mick's still alive and kicking, but if he went for him, there's such a chance he'll go for one of our boys." I hated to think it was true. I had thought it was bad with finding the body in Austria, but that was only the beginning. I put the article down, and the ride continued in a frightened silence.


	21. Chapter 21

Both taxies got to the hotel at the same time a few minutes later. Everyone got out of the cars and I saw that Brian looked rather relaxed and it became very clear to me that he had not read the article about Alexander going after Mick Jagger like Richard had. As Richard got out, he grabbed up the newspaper and went over to Brian and The Beatles. Jane, Jake, Maureen, and I didn't go with him, but we saw Richard whispering to Brian and pointing at the paper. All of the color drained from Brian's face and his eyes grew round and wide.

"I wonder what he's gonna do?" whispered Maureen. "It's not like production can get shut down now."

"We can only wait and see," I said. "I just can't believe that Alexander would go that far."

"I can," said Jane. "He seems like a right lunatic."

"I can attest to that," said Jake. "Man, they sure look serious over there, I wonder what exactly they're saying."

"I have a feeling we may find out soon," I said as the rest of the group approached us. "What's going on?"

"I hardly know anymore," said Brian. "Richard let you see the article, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "Does that change anything with what we're doing here?"

"Unfortunately, we have try and continue as if nothing has happened," said Richard. "Jake, keep wearing your disguise, and everyone else, just stay calm; it says in the article the police are very close to figuring out it's Alexander."

"Well, that's one step closer than the Austrians," said Ringo. "They didn't know which way was up."

"Yeah, thank God we're out of there," said George. "But still…do you think Alexander followed us here on purpose?"

"He _did _know we were coming here on this date," said Brian. "He was involved in the film after all."

"I would ask why, but it just seems useless," I said.

"I agree Sandra," said Brian. "Come on everybody, let's get the bags and get inside. I want to relax a little bit before we start up with the craziness again."

"Fine by me," I said, taking a deep breath. We went into the trunks of each taxi, took out our luggage, and made way into the hotel. For security reasons, the rooms were located on the very top floor. Of course, the security reasons weren't meant for the Alexander issue. They were meant to keep away from the girls.

"Are they really that nuts?" I asked on our way up on the elevator.

"Oh, they're bonkers," said Paul. "Except in Austria…they were right weird in Austria, dunno what happened there…"

"But everywhere else they're crazy," said John. "That's why Cyn and I had to hide our marriage for so long at first."

"Ouch…that bad?" I said.

"They're menacing," said Brian. The elevator doors opened and we got out into the hall. "Okay everybody, we have two suites and one regular room booked. Richard and I will stay in the regular room, the boys will have their own room, and Sandra, Jane, Jake, and Maureen will have the other suite. Sorry to break the Starkeys up, but space is an issue."

"We understand here," said Ringo. "Better to keep us apart for now anyway, what with all of the nasty teenage fan girls running around. Mo got beat to a pulp once."

"Oh, darling, please don't remind me," said Maureen, flinching. "That was horrible…"

"Yes, best not to talk about it," said Brian. "Okay, everybody to their rooms and start unpacking; we've got some big days ahead of us!"

"Oh boy Brian, I'm quite excited for that possibility," said George as the three groups parted ways. "After all of that boredom in boring old Austria with dead bodies and hospitals and whatnot, I'm in need of some big days!"

"Don't be a smart ass, George," said Brian.

"Don't tell me what to do; you're not my real mother," said George.

"What are we going to do with you?" asked Brian.

"Put him in a zoo, he'll fit in there," said John.

"Knock it off boys," said Brian. We all went our separate ways in out groups to our rooms. Jane, Jake, Maureen, and I got to ours, which had four separate rooms and was much larger than the cottage back in The Alps. It was much warmer too, which I was glad for.

"Well this sure is nice," said Jane. "I think I'm gonna like this much better."

"Yeah, no one's gonna have to be pushed over to the couch," said Jake, giving me an accusing eye.

"How was Austria by the way?" asked Maureen. "Ritchie told me…well…a lot of things. You know…about what Sandra found in the woods?"

"Well, I'm glad he told you," I said. "Seriously, it just _has _to be Alexander, there's no other way! Local rock bands are a little understandable for a murderer—not that killing is understandable—but for him to go after Mick Jagger? I can't believe it."

"I can," said Maureen, putting her purse down. "He's nasty! Good thing Jagger's all right though. It's scaring me—Alexander's not afraid to go that big!"

"I'm sure that Brian and Richard won't let anything happen to the boys," I said. "With them, they're safe."

"Yeah, you should have seen how Alexander bolted when they walked in on him beating up George!" said Jane.

"Yes, Ritchie told me…I'm so glad everything's alright!" said Maureen.

"So am I," I said, sitting down on the couch in the main room. "I just want to relax and forget about the whole thing though…there's actually finally a TV in here, let's see if anything's on."

"Sounds good," said Maureen, sitting down next to me. "I've still been feeling a little bit out of it…I can't wait till this kid's out of me finally." She picked the remote up and began to flip through the channels. It seemed that every station she landed on had something on about the attempted murder of Mick Jagger.

"Is there any way to escape this?" asked Jake as Maureen went around the channels again.

"Doesn't seem like it," said Jane. "Maureen, leave it on one of those channels so we can catch some details we didn't see in the paper."

"Got that," said Maureen. She stopped her flipping through and had it set on one of the many channels that had the news on. We had barely began watching it when there was an urgent, loud knock on the door.

"I've got it," I said, getting up to answer it. I opened the door and saw a nervous, I-think-I'm-going-to-slam-my-head-in-the-door-looking Brian. "Brian…is there something wrong?"

"I really don't know," said Brian, shaking his head. "You four better come down to the boys' room, I wouldn't want to leave you all out of this one."

"This better not be what I think it is," said Jane. The four of us followed Brian into the boys' room. Honestly, I didn't know what Jane was expecting. Hell, I didn't even know what _I_ was expecting! But when we walked into that room where everybody was either sitting on couches or leaning on walls, whatever I may have been expecting, it definitely wasn't it.

"Well hello there," said the tall, very thin man in the middle of the room. Despite constantly being around four Beatles since February, I was very taken by surprise at the lanky, huge-eyed, wide-mouthed man addressing me.

"I'm sure you all know…uh…Mick Jagger," said Brian, playing with his necktie.

"Oh, that we do," growled Jane, her blue eyes flashing. Mick (Oh my God, when was this insanity going to end anyhow…) gave her a raised eyebrow look just the same.

"Yes, we've met, so _good _to see you again Miss Asher," said Mick with the same venom.

"Uh…what's going on here?" I asked, feeling like a ghost in a crowded room.

"Sandra, I showed you the article, didn't I?" asked Richard. "And I'm sure you know who this is."

"Uh…well…yes, yes I do," I said.

"I think she's starting to piece it together," John muttered, nudging George, who just gave him that trademark stony look, in the ribs.

"Okay, let me rephrase that," I huffed. "I know who he is and I know what just happened to him, but what I wanna know is _why he's here!" _

"Take it easy sweetheart," said Mick. "Don't you know how to be nice to a guy who's escaped murder?"

"I wish she did," muttered Jake. Jane shot him another one of her burning looks and he shut up.

"I'm sorry Mr.—Mr. Jagger," I said, still trying to wrap my head around the situation. "What I meant to say was…is there a reason why you decided to come here?"

"Oh, I was just gonna stay the night here before I'm ready to get on back to my place," said Mick. "I tell ya, that old man's crazy!"

"Tell me about it!" said Jake. "I'm sure someone told you what happened to me!"

"Bloody hell, yeah, they did!" said Mick.

"Well, glad to see you two have a common ground," snapped Jane. "Now, if we can just get on back to normal, that would be great."

"Oh God…Jane, just…just go to the other room, calm down a bit," said Paul, coming over to Jane, who shot Mick one last nasty look before Paul ushered her out of the room.

"What in the _world _was that about?" I asked.

"Jane and Mick have always had this…uh…rivalry going on," said Paul. "Ever since they met. Still haven't figured it out yet."

"Oh, I'll tell you what it is," said Mick. "That temper on her—she's a redhead for a reason! I say _one _little joke, and I'm in for it!"

"Oh, so she's the Sandra to my John then?" asked John.

"Put a sock in it John or else I'll put my fist in it instead," I said to John, very similar to how Jane was speaking to Mick.

"Ah, yes, I see it now," said Mick, grinning at me. Oh no…not another one, God help me.

"Guys leave her alone and let's figure out what to do with Mick," said George.

"Right, good show George," said Brian. "So Mick, what exactly happened earlier?"

"Glad to get on the subject," said Mick. I heard Jane groan from outside; she obviously didn't want to go back to our room. "I as just minding my own business you see, reading a book, when I hear something crash outside. Now I was alone in my house, so naturally I was gonna check what the hell was up! So I got up, walked to the front door, and before I know it this crazy old man jumps like fucking Tarzan through the window with a knife! I don't even remember how I fought him off; I mean, I had to have fought him off, I'm alive and he's gone, obviously, but still. That's all I remember mate."

"Wow mate, are ya sure you only wanna stay one night here?" asked Ringo.

"Very sure," said Mick. "It's not like me to run away dammit, I'm Mick Jagger! I can do whatever I damn well want, and if I wanna go back home tomorrow, then so be it!"

"Seems he's sure then," said George. "Well then, I guess keeping you away from Jane for one day won't be very hard then."

"I _heard _that!" Jane yelled from outside of the room.

"Jane, what did I tell you?" Paul called. "Go back to your room and stop eavesdropping on us and Mick!"

"You can't tell me what to do," said Jane. "I _won't _stand for this!"

Paul was about to retort, but Ringo grabbed his shoulder. "Don't worry about it Paul, you'll just make her yell some more," said Ringo. Paul nodded and let his girlfriend be.

"You're sure you wanna stay then?" said Paul.

"Well yeah," said Mick. "You were the first people I thought of, since you know Alexander and the like."

"Well, no sense in waiting any longer to sort things out," said Brian. "Come on Mr. Jagger, let's get you settled with Richard and I; that's the only room with an extra place for you to stay."

"Fine by me," said Mick. "Just as long as it's not with that red-headed bitch…"

"Hey, watch it, I know you two hate each other, but she's still my girlfriend!" snapped Paul.

"Yes, my condolences," said Mick. Before Paul had a chance to retort, Mick had followed Brian and Richard out of the room. Everyone else walked out as well, and Jane was still waiting outside, giving Mick a chilling look as he passed.

"Don't worry Jane, he'll be gone soon enough," said Paul, putting an arm around her. Jane said nothing more, but I could tell that whatever she would chose to say would be worse than what she had said before.

"Well Jane, look at it this way," said Maureen. "I guess you'll know how Sandra feels with John all the time."

Jane huffed and I rolled my eyes as John grinned goofily. "You better behave John, you're wife's coming up here soon you know," said George.

"This place is gonna be a madhouse if it wasn't already," I said. "Too many people…"

"If it makes you feel better Sandra, Cyn and Julian won't be staying at the hotel," said John. "They're still gonna be at the house; they're just dropping by."

"Let's just go back to the room Sandra," said Maureen. "You look like your head is pounding; I'll make you up some tea and you can lie down. That's what I do!"

"Yeah, except you're pregnant," said Ringo, kissing Maureen on the cheek. "While you ladies—and Jake, of course—decompress, I'm gonna have a nice long nap meself…get a chance to take the nerves off."

"I think I've got the travel sickness again, while we're on the subject," I said, sighing. Maureen chuckled and led me back to our room while Jane and Jake followed us. I could hear Jane quietly muttering to Jake about what an asshole and child Mick was, but I tried not to listen. Was that what everybody thought of me when I complained about John? I never thought it was to that degree with us two anyway. Nevertheless, I'd better tone it down anyway, no matter how much John made me want to strangle him.

"Here we go," said Maureen once we were settled in the room. She had already made me a cup of hot tea. I sipped at it and burnt my tongue, but it wasn't like I was going to use it anytime soon. I'd fallen right asleep after finishing the tea, still with a pounding headache. I had gotten much more than I bargained for when I signed onto this damn photography job.


	22. Chapter 22

I was awoken the next morning in my own single room in the suite by a horrible racket in the hallway outside. It was hard to hear at first because the door was closed, but I could just start to make out two people screaming at each other. I could only guess who…like it was _that _hard to figure out if it wasn't me and John. I laid my head on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling awaiting the worst.

"Jagger, watch where the _bloody hell _you're walking, you nearly knocked me to the bloody floor!" Jane screamed.

"Well sorry, _Asher, _maybe you shouldn't strut through the hallway like a damn carrot-topped hussy!" Mick retorted.

"Oh, when I get my hands on you—just you wait Jagger, you're gonna get it!" Jane yelled once more. By then I had just about had it. Although it was the famous Mick Jagger, I was already tired of having him over here if he and Jane were going to be at it during his stay. Fuming, I tossed my pillow to the floor, put on my slippers, and marched out into the main room, not caring that I was still in my pajamas and that Jake and Maureen were staring blankly at me as I swung the suite door open to give Jane and Mick a piece of my mind. I said absolutely nothing to the teenage boy and the pregnant woman on my way out.

I stomped into the hallway to find, as I thought, Jane Asher and Mick Jagger, red-faced, shaking, and furious with each other, having some kind of stand-off-stare-down. My grumpy morning mood was set afire at the sight.

"You two," I hissed menacingly through my teeth, my unruly hair over my face, making the two figures look even more blurry than they did without my glasses. "Had better find a way to stop this _shit _before long."

"Fat chance," huffed Jane, wrinkling her nose. "As long as Moron Mick's here, I'm not gonna get any peace."

"Oh, who's not getting any peace Asshole Asher?" said Mick. "I've never hit a woman before in my entire _life, _but I ain't afraid to start with you, that's a fact!"

"_Enough _you guys!" I found myself screaming. "Stop acting like you're children, this is ridiculous! Have some self-control and just fucking ignore each other like the adults you are _supposed _to be!"

Both Jane and Mick stopped shouting at each other and stared at me wide-eyed and shocked. I had to admit I was surprised at myself too, but I didn't take kindly to being woken up by a shouting match. I was fuming, hot, and glaring from under my uncombed bangs. "Oh…uh…okay then…we'll try to behave," said Mick meekly. Any other day it would have been hilarious to see Mick Jagger that freaked out, but not today. "Right A—uh—Jane?"

"Y—yeah Mick, we'll try…" said Jane in the same manner. I nodded sternly and went back into the suite. I walked back in as quietly and stiffly as I walked out, and Jake and Maureen where still in the same places, still staring blankly at me as I made my way to the couch.

"Geez Sandra, I don't think I've ever heard you yell like that," said Jake.

"I'm a no-nonsense Brooklyn girl, what would you think I'd do," I said, sitting down and sinking into the cushions.

"I'd say that was a nice try, but I'm gonna warn you that they'll be at it again before Mick has a chance to leave," said Maureen.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," I said. "I love Jane and Mick Jagger is awesome, but I'm not gonna care about any of that if I catch them so much as look at each other, I'll give them more than just a few stern words."

"I'm impressed by your mothering out there," said Jake. "But the complaining is just about as annoying as anything else."

"I'm Jewish, I have an exception," I said.

"I could say so much about this now…" said Jake.

"Well don't, moron," I said. "Not in the mood…I've still gotta get dressed and find which freaking bag I packed my camera in."

"Okay…sorry…" said Jake in the same submissive manner that Jane and Mick had responded to me in the hallway. I walked off to my room, did what I needed to do, and came out about fifteen minutes later, clean, dressed, wearing my glasses, carrying my camera, and my hair neatly braided. I felt a little less grumpy, but I knew if one little thing happened I'd explode everywhere.

"You two coming to the set?" I asked.

"Nah, I feel like I need to stay here," said Maureen. "Jake?"

"I'll stay with you in case you need something," said Jake. "Like…heavy lifting…or your water breaking early."

"That would be horrible," said Maureen, pulling a face. "But thank you for being a gentleman anyway."

"No problem ma'am," said Jake like the perfect gentleman Maureen had dubbed him. He glanced at me quickly and it then occurred to me that he was pulling the "gentleman" ruse to impress me. And here I thought he was going to give up…yeah right.

"Okay, I'll see you guys in a few hours," I said. I made sure I had everything I needed and I was out the door again, in a somewhat better mood than before.

"Hey Sandra," said George, who was walking alone down the hall. "I heard all kinds of shouting out here earlier, what was that all about?"

I laughed as I caught up to him. "Jane and Mick were going at it again and I shut them up," I said.

"Wow, I didn't know you had it in ya," said George. "Well…maybe I did, but still, pretty impressive. Whenever those two are in a room together it's like the seven levels of Hell all in one."

"Does anyone know exactly why?" I asked.

"No, there's actually not a deep reason, believe it or not," said George. "They just hate each other."

"I guess that's…acceptable," I said. "Where are the others?"

"They're already by the car," said George. "We both were a little slow this morning."

"We're not too behind, are we?" I asked.

George shook his head. "Nah," he said. "I have a feeling they were expecting it anyway; it's not like it's anything new."

I laughed at that. I had missed George's silly way of putting things since we had less time to spend together lately. I had come to embrace the idea that he was unbearably cute and there was nothing I could do about it. My mind drifted back to what I was thinking back on the taxi over to the airport in Austria while I was busy looking at George, fast asleep on the seat next to me. I knew I felt something stronger than just thinking George was cute…I didn't know why I was so confused about it; I'd had feelings similar to these before—it wasn't like it was totally alien, and I knew he liked me well enough, but still…I'd hate to think that I liked him just because he was a Beatle.

"You okay Sandra?" George asked, noticing my spacing out.

I firmly jerked back to reality and said, "Uh, yeah, I'm fine, just…tired, sleepy, yeah."

"There ya go saying things all weird again," said George. "And just when I thought you were done with that!"

"Come on George, who says things weird?" I asked. Maybe we both did. What a match, right?

"I dunno, what kind of a question is that?" asked George. We were outside now by the taxi that was to bring us to the set, and Brian, Richard, John, Paul, and Ringo were waiting, leaning on the doors and twiddling their thumbs.

"Well, it's about time you two came out!" said John. "Ain't that right Eppy?"

"Shut up John," said Brian. "You're fine; we got out early anyway. How are…well, you know…those two?"

"Jane and Mick?" asked George. "Oh, Sandra made sure they were fine, she told 'em!"

"Oh no…what did you do Sandra?" asked Brian, looking like he was about to cry.

I shrugged a bit. "Just yelled at them a little, no big deal," I said.

"I swear…those two…" said Ringo. "It's like you and John on steroids."

"Let's try not to focus on that today," said Richard. "Come on, let's all get in. We've got a big day today."

"What are we doing today Richard?" asked Paul.

"That Indian restaurant scene," said Richard. "It'll be fun boys, and Paul, you get to dance with Eleanor. Pretty thing."

"Well I knew that Richard, I read the script!" said Paul.

"Don't talk back Paul," said Brian. We all piled into the taxi and were off very quickly.

"So, we're actually indoors today?" I asked.

"Yes ma'am," said Richard. "It'll be a nice change."

"Yeah, instead of natural freezing it'll just be artificial freezing," said John.

"Y'know John, that was actually funny this time," I said. "Keep it up, please. It makes you so much better to deal with."

"Sandra, I'm glad you're just a little snarky instead of a screaming machine like Jane, because it makes it so much easier on all of us," said George.

"Tell me about it," said Paul.

"Speaking of," said Ringo. "Was it really a good idea to leave them along together in that hotel?"

"I think it should be fine," I said. "They have Jake and Maureen there, and I'm pretty sure, if not Jake, Maureen will whip 'em into shape if anything starts up."

"Yeah, that's my Mo for ya," said Ringo. "Tough as nails…and pregnant…oh man, I feel sorry for anyone who gets in the way of her raging hormones. Including me."

"Now that's something I'd love to see," chuckled John.

"Yeah, you would, wouldn't you?" said Ringo defensively. "I can't wait to see the fireworks when we meet _your _wife on set, that's for sure!"

"Oh, so we're finally meeting the woman who's saintly enough to have put up with you for all this time?" I said.

"Yes, you will, and you two will get along famously," said John.

"Good to know," I said. "I have to say, I admire her very much. Anyone who stuck with you for that long and survived has my respect."

"Let's not drag this on love," said John.

"I have to agree," said George. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't have to deal with the likes of John anyhow."

"Oh, great George, way to complement her and insult me, great job," said John.

"Anytime John," said George. "Just ask away!"

"Gentlemen, we need to be on our _best _behavior once we get to the set, are we clear, so just…get it all out of your systems now," said Brian.

"Ah, come on now, don't be talking like you're Alexander," said Paul.

"No…if I were talking like Alexander I'd want to murder all of you," said Brian. "And trust me when I say I'm _this _close to it."

"Well, take my advice and don't," said George. "It could get rather messy."

"I'll scrub the upholstery good," said Brian. "Ah, here we are everyone, let's get set!"

"You mean t_o _the set, don't you?" asked Paul.

"_Yes _Paul, don't be silly," said Brian. We all got out of the taxi and walked to the set, which was in an indoor studio instead of all of the on location sets we'd been to. I fumbled with my camera a little bit and took a practice shot of the front door of the little restaurant set we were going into. I fell behind a little, but I followed everyone else in as soon as I finished up.

"Okay Sandra, we're just setting up over here," said Richard. "Go on and snap some shots; the big people down here want that."

"Gotcha," I said. I went around the building, snapping shots of props, extras, and some sneak-attacks of the boys. I noticed that George photographed goofy no matter if he was ready for the shot or not, and I didn't think the photos gave him justice for his looks in person at all. Or maybe it was just my rough-around-the-edges skill. Either way, I found it funny that a very good-looking man like George looked like a half-asleep goofball in his pictures. Once I had what I needed, I stepped back by the cameraman and Richard in his directors' chair.

"Okay boys, places!" Richard called, and the boys, suddenly professional, all scattered to their respective places. Readying myself to take shots of the actual scene filming, I soon was snapping shots one after the other as quick as ever. In between shots, I saw a woman come up next to me out of the corner or my eye.

"You must be Sandra Cohen," said the woman in a British accent. "Yes, my husband has told me _all _about you." I turned to see a blonde woman in her early to mid-twenties with blue eyes, wearing a brown baker boy cap smiling at me and the set.

I smirked. "You must be Cynthia," I said, not missing a beat. "And yeah, I'm Sandra, what have you heard about me?"

"Nothing I didn't like," said Cynthia Lennon, grinning widely and toothily. "It's nice to finally meet you."

"Likewise," I said, letting my camera fall across my chest from the neck strap.

"So I've heard about some crazy things happening during the filming," said Cynthia, watching the boys interact silly with the more experienced actors. "Is everything okay?"

"So far," I said, shrugging. "Nothing to worry about too much." Or so I hoped.

"That's good then," said Cynthia.

I smiled, and then suddenly through the chatter of the set, a rogue cry of "Mommy!" shot through, coming from a very young boy who was toddling over to Cynthia who bore a very strong resemblance to John.

"Come here Julian," cooed Cynthia in a motherly way. She picked the child up and spun him around as her son, Julian, squealed with joy. "Julian, this is Sandra, can you say hello?"

"Hello Sandra!" Julian said in his small voice. "I'm almost two!"

"Yes, and quite articulate for his age," said Cynthia.

"It's nice to meet you Julian," I said, smiling. I heard Richard call for the boys to come off the set, and John, Paul, and Ringo rushed over. George stayed behind, looking at something. John came right to his wife and son, kissing Cynthia, and taking Julian from her, swinging him around just as Cynthia did. The smile on John's face and the look in his eyes was much different than the silly, goofy John Lennon who always bickered back and forth with me. He was a father, and it was very clear to see. I decided to let the reunited family be and went over to the preoccupied George.

"Hey George, whatcha doing?" I asked, making him jump slightly. "Sorry…"

"Oh, it's okay Sandra," said George. "Just…looking." I noticed that what he was looking at were the Indian instruments left behind on the bandstand by the musicians.

"These were pretty cool," I said. "Do you play any of them?"

"No, not yet," said George. "But this sitar thingy looks intriguing."

"Go for it," I said.

"Y'know…yeah, I will!" said George. He was reaching out to grab the sitar when a stern call from Brian telling him to "get his ass in gear" cut through the room, causing his hand to shoot back. "Maybe next time," said George, shrugging. The two of us went back to join the group.

"You can look at those later George, we have to be out of here and back to the hotel," said Brian.

"Yeah, we have to make sure Jane and Mick haven't killed each other," said Paul.

"Oh dear…those two in a room together?" asked Cynthia.

"This has had quite a history, hasn't it?" I asked.

"Quite," said Cynthia.

"So Cyn, are you coming back to the hotel with us?" asked Ringo.

"Not to stay, I have Little One here to take care of," said Cynthia, ruffling Julian's hair. "But I'll go back and hang out a little with you for a while."

"Yay!" said John, jumping up and down like his not even two-year-old son might.

"Knock it off John, let's get back," said Brian. Cynthia laughed and the couple each took one hand of Julian as the whole group walked out the door. Cynthia and Julian got in the separate car they came in and the rest of us got into our taxi. George looked a little put off, probably because of not being able to pick the sitar up before Brian yelled at him.

"Don't worry George," I said. "You're a Beatle, you can get a sitar any time you want!"

"You're right Sandra," said George. "I just wish…it f_elt _right, you know?"

"I know what you mean," I said. "There's always another time though." Of course, I was thinking about that one time weeks ago that I almost went all the way with George. It was still a complicated thing, but maybe one day.

"Once again, you're right," said George. "You should be a prophet."

I laughed. "Well, maybe one day," I said, rolling my eyes. We got back to the hotel at the same time that Cynthia and Julian arrived. We met up as a group and went on to our floor. Upon getting out of the elevator, I knew something wasn't right…I couldn't put my finger on it, but from the looks on the faces of the frantic Maureen, Jane, and Mick searching the hall, I knew I was about to find out.


	23. Chapter 23

"Oh, no, what's wrong now?" exclaimed Brian, clutching at his head.

"I'll tell you what's wrong!" screeched Jane, rounding on Mick. "Because this poor excuse of a _man _was too afraid to get caught again, Jake's missing!"

"What?" I found myself exclaim. "What happened? Was it—did he—_Alexander?"_

"The very same," said Maureen, who was trying to hold Jane and Mick away from each other like a pregnant zookeeper. "We don't know how he got in here, but he did, and snatched Jake right up when he was fixing his nose in front of the bathroom mirror!"

"You have to be bloody kidding!" said Paul. "Does anyone know where he took him?"

"He left a note in the bathroom after he got the kid," said Mick. "I got it here."

"Yeah, thanks for helping," sneered Jane. "Thanks for doing the only thing a_ny of us _could do!"

"Well I'm _sorry _I didn't wanna get killed!" said Mick. "You're right to complain about it, what I did was _highly _unforgiveable!"

"Don't be a smart-ass Jagger!" retorted Jane.

"Please shut up you two!" yelled Maureen. "Oh…hello Cyn…nice to see you and Julian here," Maureen continued meekly, finally noticing mother and young child.

"Mummy, what's going to happen, why is everyone mad at each other?" said Julian, looking up sadly at Cynthia.

"Everything's fine sweetheart," said Cynthia, picking Julian up. "John, I'm going to take him into the room so he doesn't get upset."

"Down on your left," said John, giving Cynthia the keys. Cyn smiled at John and walked off with Julian.

"So Mick, do you have the note then?" asked George.

"Yeah, right here," said Mick, pulling a piece of paper out of his pants pocket. "It looks a little hastily written…he must have just done it then and there."

"Let's see it then," said John, reaching out to take the note from Mick. Brian was faster though and snatched the paper right out from John's nose. "Hey Eppy, I was gonna read that!"

"Too bad Lennon, I want to see this for myself," said Brian. He uncrumpled the paper and held it in front of him to read it aloud:

"_Well…long time no see! I'm sorry I cannot stop and chat, but I really must be going; I'm in quite a rush. I stopped by to pick up a friend of mine who I haven't seen in a while, but has actually been right under my nose this whole damn time. Dirty little rock and roll musician he is, just like the rest of you. I'll welcome you to come after him—maybe we'll have a little chat before you and my little friend will be slaughtered. We are currently at my estate right now (you know where it is; you have my records as a crew member for this sorry excuse of a film) if you should come by to try and save him, which of course, I highly doubt you can do anything to save him or yourselves anymore. I hope to see you soon._

_-Alexander Jameson"_

"Ah geez…" moaned Ringo. "What a nutter…"

"Well what are we gonna do?" I asked. "We have to do something, we have to save Jake!"

"What can we do?" asked Paul. "He's gonna try to kill us either way; we just can't barge in there without a plan. And who's to say he hasn't done Jake in yet anyway?"

"Oh, Paul, don't talk like that!" said Jane. "Of course we'll be able to save him!"

"I admire your confidence Jane but I don't think that's the case," said Paul.

"Well that doesn't mean we shouldn't try," I said. "Who's with me?"

"For once I think I agree with Sandra," said John. "And I think if _I _agree with her, we all should."

"There you have it," I said.

"That's all well and good now," said Ringo. "Glad you two agree, but how in the hell are we gonna do it?"

"That's what we need to figure out…" I said.

"We need some brains," said Richard. "Brian, any ideas?"

Brian flushed red and smiled bashfully. "Oh, well, Richard...thank you, thank you very much for that, but I certainly have no clue what to do," he said.

"What about—" started Mick.

"Oh, please Jagger, like you have any bright ideas!" shot Jane.

"Jane, _please, _he might actually have a good idea," pleased Maureen. "Go on Mick."

"Well, I was thinking…maybe just send one or two people in, sneakier-like," said Mick, shooting Jane a dirty look, to which Jane gladly returned.

"You know, that actually doesn't sound like the worst idea," said George. "But who do we send? He has it out for all of us."

"We have to send the ones he has it out less for," I said.

"What do you mean by that?" asked George.

Deep down, I knew what I had to say. I didn't have any personal (well…at least not yet) connections to any of the boys. Hell, I was only their photographer! I wasn't a rock and roll musician either so that was less of a pull for Alexander, but there was still a huge risk and I knew that everyone, especially George, would object to me going to Alexander's estate alone. But the more and more I thought about it, the more sense it made. I wanted to speak up, to say something, but just the worry in George's deep, dark eyes was enough to keep me shut up.

"I think I know what she's saying," Mick finally said.

"Are you a mind reader now?" said Jane.

"Jane, _please _let Mick speak, he has just as much involvement in this as the rest of us, if not more," I said, feeling very edgy. Jane bit her lip and looked down submissively, like a guilty child. I gave Mick a nod and he continued to speak.

"So…Sandra? Tell me if I'm wrong," said Mick. "But…I think what you're saying is…you should go?" Just then, the room went cold and silent, and just as I thought, George looked the most hurt, his thick eyebrows lowering into a frown and his mouth hanging open, appalled.

"Well then?" asked Brian in a shaky voice after a minute. "It he right Sandra?"

I took a deep breath and looked around at the faces once more. "Yeah…yeah, Mick's right on the money."

"Why Sandra?" asked George. "Alexander's dangerous! You can't go by yourself, you'd be mad to!"

"Well, maybe I am mad then!" I exclaimed. "Look, when you think about it, it's the safest way. I'm not _nearly _as close to any of you as your wives, girlfriends, and managers or whatever are. I'm not a_ny _kind of musician—Alexander can't have anything against me!"

"What about that time he harassed you for being Jewish, that's something against you, isn't it?" George retorted. "Sandra, I can't let you do this."

"I'm sorry George, but I don't see any other choice," I said. "I don't want you harmed; it's the safest way."

"Not safe for you," said George. "Sandra, let us go; at least go with you, but not alone."

"Do you want Jake saved or not George?" I asked. "Look, I know you never really liked him, but you could at least have some compassion!"

"Sandra you know I'd never let him get killed!" said George. "You seem awfully eager to want to be with him and not have any of _us _around though—do you love him or something?" George's eyes flashed; I'd never seen him like this before. He looked furious and hurt, and I was frightened.

"No George, you _know _I don't!" I yelled, tears coming into my eyes, but I held them back. "But he's my friend, and I'm not going to just sit here and let that creep of an old man kill him!"

George's face softened up and he looked at me in such a way that made my heart break. "Sandra…God Sandra, I'm sorry…" he said. "You…you know how I feel about you…I'm just worried about you…I'm so sorry…" He looked at me again, deep into my eyes, and I saw how sorry he really was.

"It's—it's okay George," I said. "But…you understand, right?"

"Yes, I do," said George.

"Something tells me there's another way though," said Paul.

"Do enlighten us," said Ringo.

"That's just it, I have no damn clue," said Paul. "Anyone?"

"Well, we all know we don't want Sandra to go in there alone," Jane piped up.

"I think we already proved that," said Mick.

"Shut up big-lips," said Jane. Mick looked offended but didn't respond. "So, as I was saying…we should send someone in with her, for safety."

"But who?" I asked. "I think we already figured out that everyone else is out of the question."

"Let's break this down," said Jane, stepping forward. "John, Paul, George, and Ringo are out of the question for obvious reasons. So are Brian and Richard and Mick. Maureen's pregnant and Cynthia has Julian. Ya wanna know who that leaves?"

"Uh…you?" I asked.

Jane nodded stoutly. "Yes ma'am!"

"Jane, love, come on, you're crazy, don't go!" said Paul.

"I have to agree with Paul," I said. "Thanks, but still…I mean…there has to be something else."

"But listen to my logic!" said Jane, her eyes bulging excitedly. "There isn't! I'm in Sandra, and I'm sticking to your side!"

"But Jane…are you sure?" I asked. "I mean…I guess you're right about it…but…"

"Sandra, nothing you or anyone can do or say can change my mind!" said Jane.

"She means it too," said Paul, concerned. "Once Jane Asher makes up her mind, there's no changing it."

"Bloody well right!" said Jane.

"You should go with Sandra," said Mick. "It's very noble of you."

"Oh Mick, you just wanna see me hurt, you do!" said Jane. Mick made a face in between amused and like a kid trying not to get caught. Paul gave Mick a very scathing look and Mick quickly snapped out of it.

"So…are we sure about this?" asked a very nervous Brian. "Are you girls going to be okay all alone?"

"We'll be fine!" said Jane, slinging an arm around me. "Trust us!"

"I've got an idea," said Paul, obviously very worried about his girlfriend. "Why don't John, George, Ringo, and I just come along and wait outside somewhere in case something goes wrong; we'll be hidden, and you'll be a little safer."

"Are you guys sure you wanna put yourself that close to him?" I asked.

"Sandra, for you, anything will do," said George.

"What about me then?" asked Jane.

"Yeah, you too I guess," said George, winking. Jane rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"So…Richard, what do you say?" I asked.

"I say…" Richard started. "That we're way ahead of schedule for filming anyway…so what's a little time off going to hurt? Let's do this!"

"Yes!" shouted John, jumping up with his fist in the air.

"What's going on dear?" asked Cynthia, coming out of the room with Julian.

"Sandra and Jane are going into the estate to look for Jake," said John. "And the guys and I are going to be waiting in the wings for them."

"Oh my…is everything going to be okay?" asked Cynthia.

"We'll be fine love," said John. He kneeled down to be eye to eye with Julian. "Key kiddo, me and the guys are going somewhere for a little while; d'ya think you can take good care of Mummy while I'm away?"

"But I always do!" said Julian.

John laughed and ruffled his son's hair. "There we go Jules," he said.

"We're going to get on back home then," said Cynthia. Scooping up Julian in her arms, she kissed John goodbye and went to the elevator, saying goodbye to everybody. I watched them leave, and then my eyes turned to John, who was standing there right where his family left him. Biting my lip, I went on over to him.

"John…" I said. "You—you don't have to go you know. You have a family. I wouldn't want you getting hurt and not being able to see them again."

John smiled at me, a different smile than usual. Not a silly, goofy, immature smile like it was most of the time, but a more grown-up, fatherly smile. "Nah Sandra, I'm not leaving you guys," he said. "Sure I have my family, but they understand what I'm about. Trust me, I won't let them or you all down."

"Well, if you guys are off now I guess I'm heading back to my pad," said Mick.

"Thank God," sniffed Jane.

"Jane, shut up," Maureen snapped again. "You gonna be okay Mick?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine," said Mick. "Hopefully you all will be able to sort this whole mess with Alexander out today and I'll have one less thing to worry about."

"If you feel that way," said Brian. "So…Richard, I guess it's up to you, me, and Maureen to hold the fort down at home. Are you all sure you don't want us to come along?"

"We should send as little people as possible," I said. "I'm sure we'll be fine; Jane's lucky s_he's _coming along."

"Hey!" Jane snapped.

"Well, it's true," I said. "So, are we getting out of here or not?"

"Let's get on out," said Ringo. "All this chatting is wasting time. I'm ready to kick some Alexander ass!" He went over to Maureen, scooped her up in his arms are gracefully as he could without hurting her in her delicate situation, and kissed her. He let her go and stood her up and said, "I'm ready!" Maureen looked a little winded, but pleased.

"We'll see you guys in a little bit!" said Paul as he, John, George, Ringo, Jane, and I went to the elevator and stepped inside. "Except Mick, that is. Have a nice day Mick!"

"Likewise," said Mick, waving as the elevator doors closed.

"I can't believe we're actually doing this," said Ringo as the elevator went down. "All down to the wire now…"

"It is a little freaky," said George. "But if the shoe fits, it's not."

"George, do you listen to yourself when you speak?" asked John.

"I try, but I don't see a point in it," said George. "I don't speak to hear myself; I speak for you all to hear myself." Before any one of us could come up with some kind of witty remark, the elevator stopped and opened its doors on the ground floor lobby. We hesitated for a moment, looking at each other back and forth before finally deciding to step out right when the doors were closing. Of course, poor Ringo was halfway out when the doors closed on his leg.

"Ouch!" Ringo exclaimed, yanking his leg free of the door and catching up to us. "Bloody hell, why do doors always have it out for me?"

"You're soft," said John. "That's why."

"Ah, shaddup John, you're as soft as the rest of em," said Ringo. As we made our way out, I lingered back a little bit with George, who looked just as uneasy as me.

"So…George…" I said. "Do you…do you think we're crazy for doing this by ourselves and not getting the cops on this?"

"Maybe," said George. "But like you said, no matter how much Jake drives me up the wall for wanting to be with you, he's our friend, and I think we should do our best to save him."

"You're right," I said. "I'm just…scared. Something really bad could happen and I don't want to lose you…any of you…but…you."

George didn't say anything to me, but he looked deep into my eyes, smiled bitterly, and took my hand. It had been a long time since I felt that hand; it was large, much larger than mine, and a little rough from guitar playing. He was also very warm and comforting. We walked out of the door and to the taxi hand-in-hand, not caring who saw or what anyone would say. George's touch was all I needed to gain the courage to go on and know that we could save Jake. These feelings that I had that were so jumbled up in my head before were all starting to make sense…it was love after all.


	24. Chapter 24

"Well…here we are," said John, who had been driving the taxi we rented. Anyone would give a Beatle anything. John parked the taxi right behind Alexander's huge estate where he wouldn't see where the boys would be hiding while Jane and I went into the thick of it all to find and save Jake, and hopefully kick Alexander's sorry old ass.

"I guess…I guess we're going in now Sandra, right?" said a nervous Jane.

"It seems so," I said. "Uh…are you sure you guys are gonna be okay out here?"

"We'll be fine Sandra," said George. "We'll be watching out for you; the second something goes wrong, we'll be in there faster than Ringo chucks his drumsticks at us in the studio when he gets pissed off."

"Dunno how _that'll _be possible, but it's worth a shot," joked Ringo.

"Okay…" I said. "Ya ready Jane?"

"Oh, I was born ready," said Jane, sounding a little more confident. "Let's do this!" We nodded to each other and climbed out of the taxi.

"Just listen for us if something bad happens," I said to the guys as Jane and I walked off. "You know what to listen for, right?"

"A crazy scream, sure," said Paul. "Oh Jane, _please _be careful."

"I will Paulie, trust me," said Jane. Paul leaned out of the car window and kissed Jane softly. I found my eyes drifting to George, but I saw that he was already looking at me; I knew what he was thinking, and I was positive it was the same thing that was on my mind.

"Good luck girls," said George finally after Jane went back over next to me. "Don't get hurt."

"We won't," I said. "I promise." George gave me that bittersweet smile again as Jane and I gave the boys one last wave goodbye and walked off.

"In through the front door then?" asked Jane in a whisper.

"I guess so," I said. "He knows we're coming…"

"Do you suppose we need to knock?" asked Jane.

"Possibly," I said. We got to the very ornate front door of the large house. "Check for a key under the mat." Jane nervously bent down and gingerly lifted the mat up to look for a key.

"Nothing," she said. "Man…I really don't wanna knock on that door…"

"Well, we might have to," I said.

"Just pull a bit on the door handle just in case," said Jane, shrinking back as I sighed and reached out. The door was, thankfully and surprisingly, unlocked.

"Well then," I said, shrugging. "I guess either he's really secure, or he just knew we were going to be here." Jane looked positively relieved. I pulled the door open slowly and quietly to reveal a dimly-lit but large living room. "I suppose we should go in," I said again.

"Yeah…yeah…you'd think we should, shouldn't we?" said Jane, her voice shaking. "Man it looks freaky in there…"

"Come on Jane, it's not a haunted mansion," I said. "Let's go, Jake's still in trouble."

"Right," gulped Jane. I coaxed her in behind me, and I closed the door behind us once we were safely in. Without the sunlight pouring in from the open front door, the room was nearly pitch black.

"Jane, do you have a light or something," I whispered, feeling around the room as I walked. "I have nothing."

"Paul left me with this, just in case," said Jane. She pulled a cigarette lighter out of her pocket, and with a few tries, finally lit it, giving us some sort of light with the flame.

"That's great, it'll do for now," I said. "Keep walking; I think I see stairs."

"Where do you suppose he's hiding him?" asked Jane.

"Dunno, that's what we're here to find out, isn't it?" I said. "Come on, I have a good feeling about these stairs."

"You might, but I certainly don't," Jane groaned. Nevertheless, she followed me up the stairs like a puppy on a leash. "Seriously Sandra, he Alexander knows we're here and knew we were coming, then why isn't he being a good and gracious host and waiting downstairs with the light on for us?"

"Because Jane, he's an asshole," I said.

"I think it's an understatement," huffed Jane from behind me.

"Jane, why don't you get in front of me?" I asked. "You have the lighter."

"I was afraid you were gonna say that," groaned Jane. She sighed and made her way in front of me on the stairs. "I swear, when we get out of this I'm gonna smack you silly."

"But what if we get out and we're successful?" I asked. "You'll probably have me to thank."

"You'd love to think that, wouldn't you?" asked Jane. We headed up the tall staircase more, when suddenly my blood went cold and Jane and I froze in our steps.

"Did—did you hear that?" I asked.

"Yeah…" said Jane. "F—footsteps." It was true—the closer we got to the second floor, the louder and more dominant the footsteps grew. Most likely, they belonged to Alexander, and hopefully Jake.

"Let's go," I urged, pushing Jane along so we could rush up the stairs.

"I really don't think we should go up that fast—" Jane gasped, but I pushed her anyway and we made it up to the second floor, finally. It was a room with a large, long table and grand portraits. The footsteps had stopped, but there was a new light. Jane switched off the lighter and the both of us crept forward to the flickering light. As we neared it, we saw that the light was coming from a fireplace, and there was a shadowy figure facing the fire. Of course I knew who it was.

"How nice of you girls to come," said Alexander, turning around slowly, a smug grin on his face.

"This ain't _My Fair Lady _sir, so let's get to the point," I said with venom. "Where's Jake?"

"You'll find out where he is," said Alexander. "Now…why don't you two have a seat?"

"Way to offer us a seat when you weren't even waiting for us at the door!" Jane snapped. "Some host you are!"

Alexander laughed. "Oh, the redhead!" he said joyously. "I forgot all about you and your vile temper!"

"I bite," Jane snarled.

"I look forward to it," said Alexander.

"Save it creep," I said, pushing Jane, who was about to lose her temper, aside. "Now where's Jake, and why are you killing?"

"I think I'll answer that when your friends get here," said Alexander, grinning.

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked.

"Oh, come on, are you stupid?" said Alexander. "I thought Jews were supposed to be smart."

"Take that back!" Jane screamed, lunging forward. I caught her and held her until she calmed down a little.

"_Please _go on sir," I said, raising my eyebrows.

Alexander chuckled. "Honey, you don't think I didn't hear the car pull up or those boys shouting, didn't you?" he said. "Honestly, you'd have to be bloody d_eaf _not to notice them."

Jane and I looked at each other, eyes wide with shock and frozen with fear. "Oh God…" Jane muttered. "Those idiots…such bloody idiots…"

"Yes Miss Asher, for once, you and I agree on something," said Alexander.

"What the hell are you gonna do?" I asked.

"Well, as I recall, the signal for them to jump in and rescue you was…what was it…ah, yes! A scream!" said Alexander.

"Nice try Alex, but we're not screaming just to get them here," said Jane. "Do ya think we're stupid or something?"

Alexander laughed that chilling laugh again. "Girls, you two silly, silly girls," he said. "I'll give you a choice…either you scream on your own accord without me hurting you to get them here…or I'll be forced to make you scream myself."

"Well I dunno about Sandra, but I won't scream to have our friends hurt!" said Jane. "My goddamned _boyfriend _is down there, what the hell do you think I'm gonna do?"

"I agree with Jane," I said. "If we're going down, it'll be with a fight! You can't do anything to make us give in to your sick plot!"

"Fine, if that's what you want ladies," said Alexander. He reached into his blazer pocket slowly and pulled something out. After that it happened very quickly. There was a loud bang, smoke, and I didn't feel anything until my legs grew wobbly and I hit the floor. I was still awake, but I would had much rather be out cold than feel the excruciating pain that shot up my leg. I couldn't hear anything except my heart pounding in my ears, and all I could see was the blood pouring from my leg where the bullet from Alexander's gun hit me. I cried out, unable to move or do anything else. Jane rushed to my side, her blue eyes flashing with fury and her hair a crimson shock of angry flame around her head.

"What the fuck did you do?" she shrieked. "My God, when I get my hands on you—you _better _not have killed her, you bastard!"

Alexander laughed again; that laugh was more chilling and painful than my wound. I wanted to jump up and strangle him, but I couldn't move. "That was not or meant to be a killing shot," said Alexander. "I have no means to kill any of you two…yet, at least."

"But what about the guys when they come huh?" I yelled as much as I could.

"We'll see what happens," said Alexander slyly.

"You just wait!" said Jane. "When the guys come up, they'll kick your sorry little ass and get everyone out of this!"

"Miss Asher, you make me laugh," said Alexander. Through the pounding in my ears I heard frantic footsteps and shouts. The Beatles were coming up to us. "Oh!" said Alexander. "I do believe our additional guests have arrived! I'll welcome them."

"Like hell you will!" I spat. Just then, John, Paul, George, and Ringo appeared in the doorway, looking flustered, frazzled, and all around pissed off.

"What the hell did you do?" George yelled, rushing over to me. "You better have an explanation you bastard or else!"

"And where's Jake?" asked Paul angrily. "He better be unharmed, ya hear?"

"Relax boys," said Alexander. "I promise you that Jake is unharmed…as of now. So, while we wait to check up on him, I will have your precious Sandra all patched up and we will sit down for a nice dinner to discuss things. What do you say?"

"I say go to hell ya slimy bastard," said Ringo, kneeling down next to me with George, who was frozen with rage. "Hurt anyone again and you're dead!"

"We'll see about that son," said Alexander. "Now why don't you move aside and allow me to put some bandages on poor Sandra's leg."

"Why in the hell would you shoot her if you want to fix her up, eh?" asked George, still furious. "What kind of sick guy are you?"

"A sick man with a purpose," said Alexander. He walked back over to the fireplace and took up a roll of bandages he had strategically placed up on top of it. "I knew you four were out there, I wanted you in here, so I used a little…persuasion, if you will."

"You sick piece of shit!" John spat.

"I'll kill him with my bare hands if I have the chance!" Jane shouted.

"I would love to see that Miss Asher," said Alexander, keeling down to me with the bandages. "But not yet—we can try that later."

"I want to do it," said George, putting his hand on the bandages. "I don't trust you."

Alexander grinned. "I admire you, Mr. Harrison," he said. "Hate you, but admire you. You care, and you're smart. And of course you're right not to trust me. Here you go." Alexander handed George the bandages, and George firmly yanked them out of his hand.

"I don't care if you admire me, ya great lunatic," said George, starting to wrap the bandages around my still throbbing leg. "I just don't want you to kill anyone, least of all Sandra."

"Hey, what about us mate?" asked John, gesturing to Paul and Ringo, as well as himself.

"Ah, come on guys, you know what I mean," said George, finishing up my bandage. "You okay Sandra?"

"No," I said. "I doubt a bandage will do any good. I don't think I can walk…"

"Pain?" asked George.

"So much," I said. I tried to bite it back, but it was tough. I'd never been shot before, but I could tell why people didn't like it very much…

"The pressure from the bandage will dull the pain shortly," said Alexander. "That's one thing you can trust me on."

George shot Alexander a dirty look and finished up my bandages. There was still some pain, but I had to say…hated to admit, actually…that Alexander was right; the pain had dulled. However, I was still sure I couldn't walk.

"Now, if you may Mr. Harrison, since I know you're the only one who will _insist _to do so," said Alexander. "Please help Miss Cohen up so we may all sit at the table."

"Hold on to me, Sandra," George whispered in my ear as he hoisted me up, careful not to put any pressure on my injured leg. I winced, but I let George carry me over to a seat at the long table, already set with silverware, napkins, and wine glasses. He sat next to me, Jane on my other side, the other three boys on the opposite side of the table, and Alexander at the head.

"Ok, we're up here now, can you tell us what all this mess is about?" asked Paul. "We're all about to lose out patients here."

"I can tell," said Alexander. "Now, while the food is being served, I shall explain." Alexander clapped twice, and out of the blue, a plethora of servers appeared carrying plates of food and bottles of wine. The food was placed at our settings and the wine was poured into our glasses. "You may be happy to know that the wine will help with your pain as well as the bandages, Miss Cohen," said Alexander to me.

I said nothing but gave Alexander a burning look and took a quick sip of wine. I had drunk wine before, so unlike any other alcohol, it didn't slap me in the face. It was sweet and I could tell it was very expensive and top-shelf. The cool drink filled my body, but the pain hadn't dulled yet. It would probably take more than just one sip to help.

"So are ya gonna tell us what's up yet or are ya gonna keep bullshitting until Jake keels over from starvation?" asked John. "Today, please?"

"Calm yourself Mr. Lennon," said Alexander. "I will explain now—Jake is here, a little bashed up, but alive and well."

"Oh, he better be!" snapped Jane.

"What about all of the murders?" I asked. "What about trying to kill George and Mick Jagger? Care to explain _that?" _

Alexander grinned evilly. "I'd be glad to," he said, his voice dripping with all of the grease and oil possible. "You see, when I was signed on to produce a film, I was under the impression that I would be working with actors; ones who knew what they were doing and were professional and mature, like actors ought to be. But then I found out these _'actors' _I'd be working with were _you four._"

"And what's so wrong with that?" asked Ringo, offended.

"So much!" Alexander snapped, slamming his fists into the table, making everything rattle. I held onto my glass so it didn't fall and spill wine everywhere. "Do you know how much the mere thought of a rock and roll musician doing a_nything _makes my skin crawl? Rock and rollers _acting? _I spit at the idea! Even worse—rock and rollers _living._ I knew I had to put a stop to it."

"So you thought that thoughtlessly murdering young, unknown locally-performing musicians would solve all of your problems?" I asked. "What kind of sick bastard are you?"

"A smart one, Miss Cohen," said Alexander. "I knew I couldn't kill a Beatle right away; I needed to practice at it. When I met young Jake in that restaurant when we were filming on-location in The Bahamas, I knew I had a start to my plan. Yes, he was right—I followed him home and killed off his stupid, untalented little bandmates." George looked like he was about to launch over the table and strangle Alexander himself, but with some miracle he was holding back.

Alexander chuckled seeing that and continued. "I knew I didn't kill off Jake," he said. "I knew he got away, and when I first saw that kid you all called 'Donny,' I grew suspicious. It was smart of you to disguise him, I'll give you credit for that. When we went to Austria, I felt the need to kill again. Maybe it would help Jake come out of the woodwork from Donny, and it would give me a second chance. I wanted to kill a whole band off already…I needed to. When I heard that a popular local band was staying close by the cottage where we were, I seized the opportunity and struck again. I was just finishing my work after a few hours, bringing the last body into the woods to hide him when I saw Brian and Richard wondering into my midst with newspapers. Of course, I panicked; I didn't want them to find out I had murdered anybody. At least not yet. I dropped my knife and the body and hid in the trees. A gust of wind took off, and by a stroke of luck, Brian's newspaper blew out of his hands and right at my feet. I saw the headline…it was about me and how I murdered those kids. The Austrian press runs quickly, but their police do not. They never figured out it was me, although they got close. Nevertheless, I wrapped my knife in the paper and buried it in the snow."

"Of course, our little _heroin_ Sandra Cohen had to stumble upon the body and the knife and paper and show e_verybody. _Thankfully they didn't catch me. That's when I knew that if I wanted to get my work done, I had to do it fast. I tried when I beat up George, but I was walked in on and had to make a run for it. I wasn't stupid—I wasn't going to come back to the film crew after that. I didn't finish my work, but I went away in planning. I did follow you all to London though, obviously. That's when I got the bright idea to have a practice shot again, this time on a bigger, more widely-known musician. Mick Jagger was in town, and I knew _exactly _where he was. Of course, that proved unsuccessful, so I knew I still wasn't ready. That's when I knew I had to come back for Donny…who I was certain was Jake by then. I still knew which hotel you were going to be staying at; you should have changed that."

"I saw him once I snuck in, reapplying his disguise. I knew it—it was Jake, the boy I missed. I knew it was his fault I wasn't able to succeed in killing any of you or Mick Jagger. He was on my mind constantly; I failed in killing him, and I knew how badly I wanted you four dead. Once I had Jake out of the way, you would be clear for the taking. And that's where we are now. Did that answer your questions?"

"Very nicely," Jane growled with a vengeance. "And now what are you planning to do with us?"

"Yeah, you already shot me in the fucking leg, what more damage can ya do?" I asked.

"I'll tell you what," said Alexander. "I'm feeling generous today, so I will give you a chance to find Jake."

"Oh, so this is your generous side?" asked George, who had calmed down a little. "Please, elaborate, I can't w_ait _to hear what you have to say!"

"Jake is hidden, relatively unharmed, in one of the rooms of the estate," said Alexander. "You will do only what I say to do to find him and _only _that."

"And what's stopping us from not kicking the crap out of you right here right now?" asked Ringo.

Alexander smiled and chuckled. "Because, if you do anything I don't tell you to do, you'll be forced to pay harshly."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked John.

"Let's just say we have an unexpected twist in the plot," said Alexander. He walked over to the door next to the fireplace and opened it slowly. Inside were, bound and gagged, two young women, looking a mixture of scared and terribly vengeful—Maureen and Cynthia.


	25. Chapter 25

"Oh my God!" Ringo shouted as he and John rushed to their wives who were tied up in the closet. "What are you playing at you villain, my son's in there; you have some explaining to do!"

"And what did you do to _my _son, huh?" John hissed, grabbing Alexander by his collar. "I swear, if anyone gets hurt here, my _son, _so help me!"

"Why in the hell would you kidnap our wives anyway?" said Ringo, joining John by Alexander.

"On the contrary, I did not kidnap them," said Alexander, yanking John away from him. "These two lovely ladies arrived here before you all did, and were not quite as careful as you. Yes, they walked right into this, I'll tell you that. But I have to complement them on their bravery, especially this dark-haired one." Maureen scowled up at Alexander, who just laughed again.

"So is this how you get your kicks?" Jane asked. "I tell ya what, these girls are like sisters to me; you hurt them and you'll be sorry, man!"

"I hope that now that you know what you're up against, you will cooperate," said Alexander. "I expect this to be clean and painless. If you find Jake within the hour, you may go free. In not…everyone here except for me dies."

"You still didn't tell me where my son is!" John shouted. "You better not have hurt him, I swear to God!"

"Your son was not with your wife," said Alexander. "I swear by it."

"And just how can I believe you?" said John.

Alexander turned to Cynthia, who was thrashing in her ropes. "Young lady," he asked to her. "Tell your husband the truth—was your son with you when you came here?" Cynthia shook her head, her blonde hair flopping onto her face.

"How do we know if you're not making her lie?" I asked.

"Cyn wouldn't lie, not for anybody," said John, a little more a peace. "I trust her."

"So…" said Alexander. "May the search begin?"

"You bet it will!" said Jane, still riled up from seeing her friends tied and gagged.

"I think we should split up," I said. "Jane and Paul, can I trust you to go off together and get something done?"

"Sandra, when a friend's life is on the line, anything's possible," said Paul with all of the eloquence of a thespian.

"Great," I said. "John and Ringo, you go off together. I'll go with George."

"Sure ya will," said John, somehow mustering up some of his goofiness with a wink. "Remember to concentrate on the goal children."

"We've got it covered," said George. He turned to me. "Sandra, can you walk by yourself?"

"I don't know," I said. "But I'm afraid to try."

"I'll help you," said George. He took my arm and slung it around his shoulders. I felt the warmth of his neck and the softness of his hair on my skin, but I couldn't afford to let my head get fuzzy now. Slowly and carefully he stood me and himself up so I wasn't putting weight on my injured leg. "You okay?"

"I'll have to be," I said. "Okay Alexander, how much time do we have to get this crap over with?"

"You have one hour," said Alexander, winding his watch. "Start now…or else." He glanced over at Maureen and Cynthia, and we were off in our pairs. George still held onto me as we left the room.

"Thanks," I said once we were in the hallway. "I—I'm sorry you all are here."

"Well, there was nothing you could have done to prevent that," said George. "It was Alexander's fault he shot you, and it was very noble of you and Jane not to just scream on purpose to get us here with you unharmed. Not that I'm glad you're hurt though, that's terrible."

Despite all I had been through in the past few minutes, I managed to laugh. George always knew how to make light of a horrible situation. "Yes, it is horrible," I said. "Now…where do you think Alexander would be hiding Jake?"

"That's a good question," said George. "Come on, let's go down this way and check in some rooms."

"Good idea," I said. George took me down the hall and we started our search. "So…looks like all of that talk of who was going or staying rendered useless, huh?"

"What? Oh, yeah," said George. "Well, here we are and here we'll stay…well, hopefully not stay _here _exactly, but you get it, don't you?"

"Yeah, I get it," I said. "I'm just…just glad that you're okay."

"I wish I could say the same about you, but you're hurt," said George.

"It's not that bad," I said. "I'll live."

"I'm glad," said George. We walked farther and farther down the dark hallway, and I suddenly started to feel as if we weren't in a life-threatening situation. I felt safe with him, and I guessed he felt the same around me. Maybe it was the fact that he was holding me, but I wasn't going to question the feeling.

"Maybe we should switch directions?" I asked. "I don't think there's much over here."

"Maybe that's what he wants us to think," said George. He paused for a moment, and spoke up again. "Listen, Sandra, I mean…I know we're going to get through this and all, but just in case we don't…I just—just want to remind you how I feel."

I sighed. I knew this was coming, and I knew how I felt, finally, but what to say at this point? Yes, I knew deep in my gut that we were going to make it out of this, but why would George be so worried about the outcome of today if he was talking about this now? Maybe I was worrying too much, but then again, maybe not. I was confused, to say the least. "I know George," I finally said. "I—I'm scared about this too, and…"

"It's okay Sandra," said George. "I—I'm sorry to scare you, but I just…"

"I understand," I said. "I—I've been thinking actually…"

"And?" asked George. I wondered if he could feel my heartbeat; he was holding me so close. As much as I wanted to duck into a corner and forget about this whole thing for a few minutes, I couldn't; it was physically impossible. "It's okay…you don't have to answer."

"But I do George!" I said. "I—I've thought about it, and, well, I suppose I should tell you now cause I'm gonna end up regretting it if something happens tonight and I'm not able to tell you! George, I think that—that I've actually fallen in love with you." I was looking deep into his eyes by now, a hard maneuver to pull off due to my leg being useless. I didn't realize exactly when I said as I was saying it, but right after, I felt like crawling deep into a hole, no matter what I knew about George's feelings for me. He was staring at me too though, deep and longing. My heart was still pounding in my chest, leaving me wondering what was going to happen next.

He said nothing, which unsettled me at first. What if he had changed his mind? But in a split second I knew he didn't. Without any warning, George swooped down, still holding me up with the weight off of my leg, and kissed me deeper and more passionately than I had ever been kissed before. His lips molded perfectly into mine, and I didn't care that he was pushing my glasses into the bridge of my nose; the swirling joy and love in my head was even enough to dull the pain in my leg. That kiss felt like it lasted forever, and as George pulled away from me I felt his warm breath mingling with mine. There was more staring into each other's eyes, and then we got serious again.

"Come on," said George with a newfound spirit. "Let's find Jake." He made like he was going to dart off heroically, but caught himself just in time, remembering that he was still holding onto the immobile me. He smirked, and we went off together.

"How do you think the others are doing?" I asked as we walked.

"Well, I haven't heard any screams yet, so I'd say not too bad," said George. "But…just keep your ears open."

"Okay," I said. I was starting to come down from that high I felt from George's kiss, but it was hard. I was watching and listening for any sign on a struggle or Jake, but my mind was still a huge blur. I was really kicking myself for not waiting to say anything until we got out of this mess. Well, that's what I get for being a hopeless romantic in this situation I guess. It was then, in the nearly pitch-black darkness, that there was a yelp of surprise (and possibly pain) from George, and I suddenly felt my feet slip up into mid-air as George and I tumbled down the stairs to the first floor.

"Ahhhh!" I yelled, crumpled up on the floor. Thankfully, George had swung himself out of the way from falling on me, but I had unluckily fallen on my injured leg. I tried to bite back the pain, but it was so hard.

"Sandra, are you okay?" said George, walking over to me, seemingly unhurt.

"I—I think so," I gasped, clutching my leg. "Just—just help me up now, we gotta get moving again."

"Are you sure?" asked George. "The others are on it, why don't we wait until you feel a little better."

"But…" I said. "I don't want to let anyone down."

George touched my shoulder. "You're not letting anyone down Sandra," he said. "If you keep going like this hurt you could get yourself killed. Sorry I fell down those stairs."

"It's okay," I said, still holding my leg. "It's dark in here and we were all worried."

"I still feel bad," said George. "Listen Sandra, I know you're not gonna like it, but just stay here with me for a little while; you're hurt bad."

"Fine," I said, feeling like a five-year-old getting put in the time-out corner. I knew why I had to stay put, and part of me wanted to, but the other part of me wanted to find Jake, beat the crap out of Alexander, and get the hell out of this place. George out his arm around me, gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, and we just sat there at the foot of the stairs. It was peaceful for a while, but then we heard frantic, rushed footsteps. George and I looked up, alarmed, and saw Jane and Paul rushing over to us.

"Are you okay?" asked Jane. "We heard something fall, and some shouting."

"Yeah, that was us," I said. "Is everything okay with you?"

"Well yeah, we're not all crumpled up on the floor," said Paul. "I think the real question should be is everything okay with _you?" _

"Sandra's hurt," said George. "On top of getting shot in the leg, I was incredible and managed to make us both trip down the stairs."

"Do you know where John and Ringo are?" I asked. "And Jake? Anything on him?"

"Nothing yet," said Paul. "I'm starting to smell a rat, actually."

"What do you mean?" asked George.

"Well, we've been searching too, and I think between all of us, we've looked in every door," said Jane. "I don't think Jake's been found…we're starting to think Alexander's playing us."

"I wouldn't be surprised," I said. "I mean…something tells me he wouldn't let us go if we found Jake in time. It doesn't add up."

"At least we have some idea," said Paul. Just then, there were more footsteps, and John and Ringo ran around the corner.

"What is this, nap time?" asked John. "If we don't hurry soon, our wives are gonna be pushing up daises!"

"John, will you relax?" said George. "They're gonna be fine, and Sandra's hurt."

"Is she okay?" asked Ringo, shooting John a dirty look.

"I'll live," I said. "It's feeling better, I think I'm ready to get going if we can, actually."

"Are you sure?" asked George. The way he was looking at me made me want to say that I wasn't ready, but we really needed to go and see what Alexander was doing with Jake, and not to mention stop him from killing Maureen and Cynthia.

"Yes, I am," I said. "We need to do this."

"If you say so," said George. "Here, let me help you up." I reached out my arms and George pulled me up, flinging my arm around his shoulders as it was before he fell down the stairs. I winced a little bit as I put weight on the hurt leg, but I evened out and leaned onto George. His heartbeat was comforting and made me feel at ease once more.

"So is this thing really happening now?" asked John, eying George and I.

"John, I hardly think this is the time!" complained Ringo. "Come on; we've gotta get the hell upstairs and see what in the world is going on."

"Okay Brian," said John with a mischievous grin. Ringo gave him a stony look and John's personality sobered up instantly.

"Shall we head upstairs?" Jane asked.

"Seems to be the best idea," I said. "Let's go." Led by George, we all headed up the stairs. George was being extra-careful not to trip and fall again, and I was thankful for that on so many levels. My leg was throbbing more than ever now, but I had to bite down and move on. The farther we all got up the stairs, the more obvious there was some kind of conversation going on in the fireplace room.

"Hey, who do you reckon that is?" asked Paul.

"Sounds like Alexander," said Ringo. "Come on guys, let's get closer." Slowly and quietly we kept closer and closer to the door, which was left ajar. The fire from the fireplace was flickering in the crack from the slightly open door. Nothing was visible, but the voices were louder now that we were closer. I kneeled down as much as I could without further pain and put my ear to the crack.

"You're not gonna get away with this," said the first voice. It was very familiar, and I knew who it was right away. Jane and Paul were right.

"Oh, I will Jake," said Alexander. "Your friends have been looking for you for quite some time, and care too much about you to stop now."

"They'll figure out what's going on!" yelled Jake. "They're not stupid!"

Alexander laughed, making my insides freeze. "I beg to differ, young man," he said. "Those kids are as dull as…well…you get the idea."

"Why couldn't you figure anything out, huh?" said Jake. "What, are _you _the stupid one?"

"Shut up you!" Alexander yelled. There was a sharp-sounding smack, a yelp, and a dull thud of a body hitting the floor. "You get what you deserve."

"Go to hell!" Jake hissed. There was another smack, and this time a woman cried out as well, either Maureen or Cynthia.

"What are we waiting for?" asked John, on the edge of his proverbial seat. "Let's get in there!" John pushed George and I aside and kicked the door open with a full tank of anger. I saw Alexander standing over Jake, who was crumpled, but conscious, on the floor, and Maureen and Cynthia were still bound and gagged in the closet, which was still open. Alexander was staring at us in the doorway with a heated intensity that clearly spoke hate.

"Well now," he said. "You all aren't as stupid as I thought. I see this wasn't according to plan, so…welcome to the final showdown."


	26. Chapter 26

"I knew it, I freaking _knew it!" _I yelled. "You _had _to be playing us, you had Jake with you all along, and you were gonna kill all of us no matter what happened!"

"Well, what are you waiting for? Hand him over!" said Ringo. "And the girls!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that," said Alexander.

"Oh yeah, and why not?" yelled Ringo again, fired up. "Are you that stupid? Is that it?"

"I'd hold your tongue if I were you, Mr. Starkey," said Alexander. "Unless you want something bad to happen."

"Lemme tell you, something bad'll happen if you don't stop this shit right now!" said John, stepping up next to Ringo. "You're not hurting anyone else here, or anywhere else for that matter!"

"I like your spirit Lennon, but I must say it's useless," said Alexander. "At least I have you where I want you…it all worked out quite perfectly, I must say."

"And how?" I cut in. "Are you planning on killing us?"

"I could do that, couldn't I?" asked Alexander coolly.

"Oh no you won't, you'll see!" said Jake, trying to get up, but Alexander pushed him down again. I saw then that his disguise was completely gone, and I saw his sandy brown hair and clean-shaven face for the first time in months.

"Leave him alone!" Maureen tried to scream through her gag, but it came out muffled. Her eyes still flashed and I could tell that if she weren't tied up, she would let all of her pregnant rage out on whoever got in her way.

"Shut up you!" Alexander snapped. Maureen didn't say anything back, but he still stared.

"Now sir, if you're done talking and telling people to shut up, are you going to do something about it?" asked Jane. "Because honestly, I'm getting bored."

"Oh, right, do forgive me," said Alexander. "Now…which one of you shall I kill first?"

"How bout yourself, s_ir," _sneered Paul.

"Now, why would I want to do that?" asked Alexander. He kicked Jake, who was attempting to get up, and walked over to face me. "What about Miss Cohen here? She's already in some pain; I shot her earlier. Maybe I should finish the job?" George go in front of me, and while still holding me up, shielded me protectively.

"If ya wanna get to her, you're out of luck man," he growled. "Cause you're gonna have to go through me first!" As Alexander began to approach George and I, something broke inside of me. It felt like rage, courage, love, fear, something, I really didn't know, but the emotions and feelings flooding out of me were about to take control. Finally, after a moment of simmering, I burst.

"Oh, _hell _no!" I yelled in all of my Brooklyn-accented glory, stepping out from behind George. He was still holding me up, but I was _that _close to jerking away. "I do _not _have to take this crap, ya hear! Goddammit, I'm from fucking _New York!" _

"What's that got to do with anything girl?" asked Alexander, furious and confused at my sudden outburst.

"Oh, it has to do with a helluva lot, I'll tell you that!" I burst out. "Man, I wasn't raised to just lay back and take it like a little bitch! I swear, you even _think _about touching my friends and I'll rip ya to shreds like a chunk of deli meat!"

"Oh…damn…" muttered John, who had obviously not been expecting any of that to fly out of my mouth. Alexander, however, laughed, looking very amused.

"That's all very cute Miss Cohen," he said. "But I'm afraid that won't happen."

"Oh, and why the hell not?" I said, inching away from George. "You're a goddamned bastard ya know! You've killed, you've tried to kill my friends, the man I love, you _shot me in the fucking leg _for God's sake! Now be a _doll _and tell me why it won't happen!"

"I would calm down if I were you Miss Cohen," said Alexander, just about to lose his temper as well. "Or else you'll die much faster!"

"Oh, hell!" I screamed. "I beat you down once in Austria, I can sure as hell do it again! I'm comin' over there!" Not noticing any more pain in my leg, and not caring that I may fall over and not be able to get up by myself, I broke away violently from George and lunged at Alexander. I threw myself at him, my fists flying, and Jake got up and ran over to Maureen and Cynthia while Alexander was distracted. I swung and kicked, not even paying attention to the pain I was in or where I was hitting Alexander. At first, it seemed I was winning, but then, as quickly as I ran and jumped at him, I felt a sharp pain in my face and a loud crack. Blood spurted out of my nose and I flew back into George's waiting arms. Right as Alexander flung himself up, I saw Jake quickly freeing Maureen and Cynthia from their bindings. The three of them rushed over to me, and Alexander looked furious.

"You get back here you bitch!" He screamed, staring me down and pointing a shaky finger at me. His eyes flashed and his teeth were gritted and grinding with anger.

I wiped the blood away from my face and glared back.

"Oh, up yours, _Alexander!" _Maureen shouted. "Yes, I've been waiting for that all fucking night, I have!"

"Me too!" Cynthia shouted, stepping next to Maureen. "Next time, you should be more careful in choosing the people you chose to imprison! Are you ready Mo?"

"Never more ready!" said Maureen. Both women drew back their arms with a closed fist, and at the same time, let loose and punched Alexander right smack in the face, knocking him back once more.

"Run!" Jane shouted as Alexander fell. John grabbed Cynthia and Ringo Maureen, and we dashed away. George took me and picked me up, as the fight with Alexander had ruined my leg more than it had been before. We all shot down the stairs and around the corner. We stopped against a wall, breathing hard and trembling.

"Did we lose him?" asked Ringo, out of breath.

"Looks like it," I said, peeking around the corner. I turned back to the group. "Are you okay Jake?"

"A little beat up, but I'm okay," he said. "Sandra, I think your nose is broken."

"Yeah, it is," I said, touching it gingerly. I flinched at the sudden pain, but sucked it up. There was worse to worry about right now.

"I was so worried about you," said John, pulling Cynthia close. "But I have to know—is Julian really okay?"

"Yes, he's fine," said Cynthia. "I left him with Brian and Richard. Nothing's going to happen to him there."

"How in the world did you get here before us?" asked Ringo, holding Maureen.

"Well, it was actually my idea," said Maureen.

"Why am I not surprised?" asked Paul.

Maureen gave Paul a dirty look and continued. "Right after you all left, I kind of grabbed Cynthia and got the hell out of that hotel," said Maureen. "You all were kind of dallying out by the car, trying to figure things out, but while you were doing that, Cyn and I made a run for it. Yeah, we got here before you, but we were obviously seen before you too…"

"You could have been killed you know," said George.

"Yeah, we know, but we're here and alive, and that's what matters," said Cynthia. "Let's get out of here."

"We can't yet," said Jane. "Alexander's still up there! We need to get rid of him before we leave."

"Jane, are you suggesting we kill him?" asked Paul.

"Well, not really, but now that you mention it…" said Jane.

"Hell, I'll help you," said Jake. "After everything he's done to me."

"I think that should be a last resort," I said. "We should just get a hold of the police…"

"How are we gonna do that?" asked John.

"I dunno…" I said. "Maybe call Brian and Richard back at the hotel and get them to get the cops over here?"

"But I don't see a phone anywhere, do you?" asked John.

"Oh, come on John, Sandra's onto something," said Cynthia. "And there's a phone in that other room, the door's open, I can see it."

"What are you waiting for?" asked George. "Go on and call them John!" John dashed to the room with the open door, snatched up the phone and dialed the hotel's number. "So now we wait, I guess," said George again.

"You girls hit him pretty hard," I said to Maureen and Cynthia.

"Well, when he ties you up like that, you kind of get mad enough to beat him up," said Maureen. "It's only natural. _Thank you _for freeing us by the way Jake."

"It wasn't a problem," said Jake. "Thanks for taking him out."

"Okay, it's done," said John, rushing back over from the room. "Brian knows…he's a right mess, but he knows, and he's gonna bring the coppers around here."

"Great," said Paul. "Well…what do we do now?"

"I think we should stay here," I said. "Ya know, make sure Alexander's still here for the police."

"Yeah, and get murdered?" asked Jake. "Great idea Sandra."

"Well, she's right!" George snapped. "Sure, he's a dangerous man, but that's why we've gotta keep tabs on him!"

"Yeah, you're right," moaned Jake. "Look…I've just…just been through a lot."

"We all have," I said. "Let's just…I dunno, explore. Maybe we'll find something interesting."

"I swear Sandra, you're gonna be the death of us all," said Jake, but I could tell he was joking somehow. I rolled my eyes and nudged him, and we all walked off.

"So what exactly are you hoping to find here Sandra?" asked Paul, peeking around anxiously as we walked.

"Nothing in particular," I said. "Just wanna distract myself from being too nervous." Led by me (because no one else would dare go in front of me) and George (because without him, I wouldn't be able to move), we went on forward.

"Sandra, this doesn't feel right," whispered Jane as we went through the dark. "It's like…like he's watching us or something."

"I agree with Jane…this is a little freaky," said Ringo.

"Just relax guys, everything's gonna be fine," I said. "The cops are gonna be on their way soon, and with the way Maureen and Cynthia nailed Alexander, he's gonna be out cold for a r_eally _long time."

"I hope you're right," said Ringo, gripping Maureen's hand like a small child in a theme park. As we walked on and on, the hall seemed to get darker and darker. No one said another word out of fear that maybe Alexander was just around the corner. All I could hear was my breathing and the beating of my heart. Yes, I wasn't as nervous as everyone else was about Alexander, but I took comfort in the fact that the last time I saw him he was knocked out cold by two vengeful young women. A part of me wanted to turn back and stop wandering, but my one good leg kept moving, and I pulled a reluctant George along. Suddenly, there was a sound.

"What was that?" gasped Jane, jumping further into Paul's arms. She was obviously very nervous.

"Probably just one of us," I said.

"Oh, I don't think that was one of us," said Cynthia.

"Will you all relax?" I asked, getting frustrated. "Man, the guys aren't scared!"

"I believe that's quite the contrary," said George, who I felt gripping my arm even tighter than before.

"Ah! There it was again!" Jane said, this time louder.

"Jane, if you're any louder, then whatever's out there is gonna get us!" said John.

"Sorry," Jane whispered, still looking around wide-eyed and frightened. I had to admit, I wished she would have stopped, because she was making _me _nervous as well. And to think she was so plucky and eager to head into the belly of the beast with me was so terrified of walking in the dark with a huge group of people. It was silent for a while after that, and I was beginning to think that noise we all heard may had been in our imaginations. But then, as quickly as I was starting to relax, there was a whoosh and a cold, scary feeling, and a muffled scream. We all yelped and ducked and ran all over, and once the commotion was done, one dark thing was realized.

"Jane's gone!" Paul shouted, clutching at his head.

"What do we do?" asked Maureen.

"Look for her, that's what we do!" said Jake. "And kill that son of a bitch!"

"That sounds like a challenge," droned a cool, calculating voice. Our heads snapped in the direction it came from, and I saw Alexander, his face bloodied, with a broken nose like mine, courtesy of Maureen and Cynthia, and he was holding a thrashing and struggling Jane, a gun up to her crimson head.

"Hey, you keep your grimy hands off of her, ya hear!" Paul yelled, rushing forward. John grabbed his shoulders and held him back roughly.

"How about a deal?" asked Alexander, having a tough time holding onto the extremely resilient Jane. "A trade, if you will."

"Oh yeah, trade what?" said Ringo.

"I will give you back Miss Asher," said Alexander. "If you give me Mr. Woods." He cast a dark look at Jake, who glared.

"Over my dead body!" said Jake.

"Oh, how cliché," laughed Alexander. He jerked Jane closer to him, who attempted to bite his hand, but missed. "We can both win if we cooperate here."

"How do we both win?" I asked. "Either way one of our friends dies! Give Jane back or else you're gonna be the one to go!"

"Ah, there's that spirit again!" said Alexander. "Are you going to beat me up again Miss Cohen? Come on now, why don't you sacrifice yourself to save your dear friends, come on now!"

"Like hell she will!" Jane screamed. "Don't do it Sandra!"

"Oh, why I oughtta!" I shouted, going forward, but George, who still had his grip on me, pulled me back.

"If you even _touch _her, you're in for it!" George growled.

"Ah, yes!" said Alexander. "That's right! You're in love with her! How sweet is this?"

"That's right, I do!" said George. "More than anything, and I'm not ashamed to say it!" Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake bow his head and draw a sigh. I had forgotten his feelings for me.

"What's the matter Jake?" asked Alexander coolly, glancing over at him. "Why do you look so upset? You should be happy for your friend who's found love! Oh, well…unless…" He finished with a greasy smile.

Jake looked up slowly. "Okay, I'll admit it," he said. "I'm in love with Sandra. It hurts _so bad _to think of her with someone else, but when I see her that happy, it suddenly makes it okay." He turned to look at me. "You can choose, but I can see you've already chosen. When I see you, you just brighten my day, but I'd never want to see you unhappy, even if it made me the _least bit _happy. And let me tell you something Sandra, I'll stand _right there _next to you with George if a_nyone _tries to hurt you! And that goes for everyone here—Alexander, if you need me to save Jane's life, I'll throw myself in there."

"Is that a sacrifice?" asked Alexander.

"Yes, yes it is," said Jake.

"Jake, don't do it!" I found myself screaming. Tears pushed at the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

"Jake, you bloody _moron!_" Jane yelled as Alexander pushed her violently out of his grasp. "You better have a plan!" Jake just gave her a melancholy look as he walked slowly to Alexander, as if he was on death row. "Oh no…" Jane whispered as Paul took her back into his arms.

"Jake, you're a right nutter!" said Ringo. "Get back over here, whatever happened to you wanting to kill Alexander? This is suicide!"

"This is all I can do," said Jake. "This is all my fault anyway. If me dying can make this right, then I'll do it."

"Yeah, and who's to say that he won't shoot all of us once he snuffs you, eh?" asked John. "Let's all gang up on him!"

"Listen to us Jake, it's not worth it!" I said. "Get back over here, let's finish him together!"

Jake turned back to me to look at me with those huge blue eyes. "Sandra…I—I'm really sorry…" he said, choked. "I—I really do love you."

"Are we ready to end this now?" asked Alexander, playing with his gun. "I'm getting bored."

"Let's do it," said Jake, turning back to him.

"Close your eyes then," said Alexander.

"No thanks," said Jake. "I'm a man dammit, and I'm gonna go out like one."

"Fine," said Alexander, shrugging. "We can do it your way." He cocked the bullet. "Get ready." I gripped George's hand, sobbing as Alexander aimed the gun right at Jake's head. Jake just stood there like a noble statue gazing the barrel of the gun right in the eye. I admired him at that very moment, but at the same time I wanted to smack the living daylights out of him. My heart pounded as Alexander went to squeeze the trigger…but before anything could happen, there was a loud _BANG_ that didn't come from any gun.

"Okay Mr. Jameson!" shouted Brian from the doorway, bashed open, with Richard and a bevy of police. "Put that damn gun down and fight us like a man!"


	27. Chapter 27

"Put the gun down," said Richard calmly to Alexander, who was still pointing the gun at Jake. "Don't give us any more trouble than we already have!"

"This gun will not go down until someone here is dead!" said Alexander with rage.

"I guess it's gonna be you then!" Jake yelled. He ran at Alexander and tackled him to the ground. Alexander pulled the trigger of the gun as he fell, but the bullet miraculously missed everyone in the room. Jake stomped on Alexander's hand, causing him to yell out in pain and drop the gun. Paul rushed forward and grabbed the gun himself, keeping it away.

"Oh, my hero!" John yelled, jumping up and giving Brian a bear hug.

"Knock it off Lennon!" said Brian, yanking John off of him. "We have important business to cover!"

"Right sir!" said John.

"Jake, I think you made your point to Mr. Jameson," said Richard.

Jake, who was still straddling and punching Alexander, looked up from his work. "Oh, well maybe," he said. "But I don't trust to get up from him."

"You're gonna have to son," said one of the policemen coming up with a pair of cuffs. "Come on Mr. Hartford, you're coming with us!"

"Mr. Hartford?" asked John and Paul in unison as Jake got up off Alexander and the police cuffed the old man. "I thought his last name was 'Jameson'. What's up with that?" asked Paul.

"After careful research, we have discovered that this man you call 'Alexander Jameson' is a_ctually _James Hartford, the infamous madman who was responsible for a string of ten murders in London twenty years ago," said the police, gripping the man once known as Alexander tightly.

"Well oh _boy, _you caught me _again!" _said Alexander, brimming with sarcasm as the police brought him out and we all followed. "I wouldn't fret too much about my creature comforts, I'll just escape again, it'll be bloody e_asy!" _

"Oh, no, not this time Jimmy boy!" said the policeman as we arrived outside to where all the cars were parked. The new bright light made me squint and look away after all of the darkness we had been in inside the estate. "You're going away for a _long _time this time!"

"These stupid kids won't win!" screeched Alexander as they pushed him down into the police car. "Not these rockstars! These false actors! They're meddling, stupid, untalented!"

"Not to sound cliché, but tell it to the judge!" said the policeman as he slammed the door.

"Well, glad all of that's over," I said as the car drove away.

"Technically it's not over yet," said Brian. "I mean, there's still gonna be hearings, trials, sentencing, and boy do we need to be at all of it. Plus the film's still unfinished…"

"Which I'm not too worried about at all," said Richard. "There's not that much left to go, and out cast and crew is more than competent to take it on." He gave me a twinkling look and a smile. "How's your leg by the way? And your nose…you're rather beat up Sandra."

"I'm gonna need a trip to the hospital, but I'm not dead, so I'm not worrying," I said. I glanced at George, who I kept forgetting was holding me up this whole time.

"I made sure of it," said George. "Dunno how good of a job I did…but still."

Just then, there was a wonton cry of "Mummy!" that broke the silence sharply and little Julian Lennon dashed from the car Brian and Richard had come in to his parents. Cynthia swept him up and John joined the embrace. Ringo took that time to go off with Maureen, and Paul with Jane. Brian and Richard in turn walked off, leaving me, George, and Jake together alone. The three of us stood (me barely, of course) together silently and awkwardly at first, until George spoke up.

"Y'know Jake, if you wanna talk to Sandra alone about all of this, I can leave you to it," he said. "Just remember she has a bum leg."

Jake looked at George with a small smile. "Thanks man," he said. George smiled back and carefully transferred my arm from around him to around Jake. It was a little awkward, partly because Jake was much shorter than George and Jake had also just truthfully confessed his love for me back in the estate, but I realized that if I tried to stand on my own I'd topple right over.

"So…here I am, what's up?" I said.

Jake laughed nervously. "Yeah…you know…everything I said in there…"

"It was true, wasn't it?" I said.

"Well…yeah, yeah it was, but then again, why would you care?" said Jake bitterly. "You have George, that's all that should matter."

"Jake, are you nuts?" I said. "You matter to me. If you didn't matter, you'd probably be dead now! Just because I don't return your feeling doesn't mean I don't care about you."

"Yeah, you're right, I'm just being stupid," said Jake. "I—I just wanted to let you know all of this. I thought I was gonna die…"

"Now _that _was stupid," I said. "Noble, but stupid."

"I know," said Jake. "But I just felt I needed to."

"You really are a sweet guy you know," I said. "It may not be me, but somewhere, you're gonna make some girl out there feel really special."

"Well, I would have hoped it was you, but I guess it's not, and I'll have to live with that," said Jake. "And besides, George seems to be making you plenty happy."

"He is," I said with a smile. "But you really make me happy too, you know. You're a good guy."

"Thanks," said Jake, blushing. I always knew that deep down Jake had a good heart and wasn't just a silly, jealous, lovesick little boy. He gave a gesture for George to come back over, which he did. Jake did the same little thing to give my arm over to George so he could support me up, and he walked off with a smile to go to Brian and Richard.

"We should really get you to a place to sit down," said George. "Does it still hurt?"

"Yeah," I said. "Not as bad as at first though."

"That's good then," said George.

"Come on guys, it's hospital time!" John called from the car.

"Coming!" George called. He hoisted me carefully up onto his shoulders, but before we walked off, he cradled my face in his hands and kissed me softly. "Let's get you fixed up now love," he said.

"Good idea," I said, my stomach still flying. George smiled back at me and helped me walk over to the car.

"Well…guess it's back to the same old-same old then, right?" asked Paul as we got inside.

"As I was telling Sandra, there's still trials and all of that mess we have to go to, but yes, other than that, right back to it," said Richard.

"Now we have to concentrate on that film," said Brian. "Oh…bugger, what was that called again?"

"'Help!'," said Ringo.

"Oh…yes…boy would it have been great to have that in the back of my mind with all of this going on…help!" said Brian. We all laughed as the car drove to the hospital. George gripped my hand, and I saw Jake look a little down, but I raised my eyebrows at him and he perked right back up again.

"There's just one thing I regret…" I said.

"What's that?" asked Maureen.

"That I didn't have my camera with me to take that shot of Ale—wait—_James Hartford_ in cuffs!" I said.

"That would have been grand," said Jane. We relayed the information of the crazy day back and forth all the way to the hospital. I had to say, it was _very _good to be done with that crap.

_Epilogue_:

A few months later, filming was done, as were all of those crazy hearings and trials for James Hartford. It was time for me to return back to my dorm, and to Martha. George had agreed to come back with me to stay for a while and meet Martha, as well as probably my crazy parents. George drove up the road in California with me in the seat next to him.

"So this should be mighty interesting," said George.

"Martha will love you," I said. "She's quite excitable, but she'll grow on you."

"I'll remember that," said George. We came up on the university, and with much frustrated direction-giving from me, George finally found the parking lot in front of my dorm building.

"Here we go," I said as we took my bags and ourselves out of the car. "Come on, let's get up there!" With much help from George, we managed to make it up the stairs and to my good ol' front door. "Oh, this is so exciting!" I said as I fumbled with my keys.

"Funny, I thought you coming with me and the guys to photograph all of that stuff was exciting," said George with a wry grin.

"Shush you," I said, unlocking the door. We'd barely gotten one foot through the door before a blonde blur ran at me (who still had heavy bags, by the way) and jumped on me, hugging me until I thought I was going to pop.

"It's nice to see you too, Martha," I said as I pried her off of me.

"Oh, yeah, sorry Sandra," said Martha. She looked over at George. "And _you _must be Sandra's new boyfriend."

"That I am ma'am," said George. "It's pleasure to meet you." He smiled at Martha and she almost melted.

"I can't believe you're a Beatle girl!" she exclaimed. "So…I hear you had a very interesting time up filming…you have to tell me about it!" George and I sighed, looked at each other, and proceeded to take turns telling the story of everything that went on during the filming. All of the messes, the stuff that wasn't in the papers, and of course behind-the-scenes stories that had nothing to do with the murders and all of that.

"Oh. My. God," said Martha when we had finished. "That's crazy!"

"Yeah, and do you know what's even crazier?" I asked. "That my parents either didn't get wind of it or didn't do anything!"

A sly smile appeared on Martha's face. "Oh, well…let's just say you have some good friends back on the home front," she said.

"Did you…" I said.

"Hide everything?" asked Martha. "Why yes! Did you think I was gonna let your parents stress you out over there while all of that crap was happening there? I'm better than that!"

"Well now, isn't that just lucky?" said George. "Much thanks is in order here I think."

"Oh, stop it, don't make me blush!" said Martha, swatting her hand.

"Speaking of my parents, where are they?" I asked. "I thought they would have been here by now."

"They got stuck in traffic, they're on their way though, should be any minute," said Martha.

"Well, I guess that means I can have conniptions for a few more minutes then," said George.

"George, I know I said some things about them, but you don't need to be nervous," I said, laughing.

"Fine Sandra, whatever you say, but I think I'll be the one to judge!" said George.

"Oh, what do you have to be nervous about, you're a Beatle!" said Martha.

"Yes, but Beatles aren't exactly girlfriend's parents proof, just ask John," said George. The three of us burst out into laughter. It would bet better to get the sillies out before my parents came and smothered me, that was for sure. I had to say, it was a great relief being back at home where I belonged, no matter how crazy and exciting the past few months had been. At first I was happy to get away, but not I remembered how great it was to be back home. Of course, my life wasn't completely back to normal and never would be; being involved with Beatles, and especially dating one, did not promise a stable life. I didn't care though—I loved George Harrison, and nothing was going to change that. My new and old life were about to collide, and hey, I was just fine with that. Something new happens to someone everyday anyway. Why not let it be me this time? Well, for the millionth time this year anyway. I didn't think I could have a normal life after everything so far. I'd just go through my new, crazy life with the ones I loved, and I'd be happy.

**The End**

Well, this concluded yet another one of my stories! I'm so glad you all enjoyed it, and once more, I'm sad to see it finished, but, as our main Beatle in this story said, "All things must pass." So you know what's happening now! Answer some questions for me if you so wish so I can get some feedback on how my writing is so I can apply it elsewhere. Hey, it really helps! And thank you so much!

What was your favorite part/chapter and why?

What character(s) did you like and why?

Anything I could have done better? Explain please!

Overall, what did you think? Don't be afraid to be honest! Just not mean please haha

And if you have any questions for me, don't be afraid to ask! Thanks once more!


End file.
